


A Series of Meets : A Collection of One-Shots - Love Square

by damagectrl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Happy Ending, Light-Hearted, Meet-Cute, One Shot Collection, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-12-21 15:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 45,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damagectrl/pseuds/damagectrl
Summary: A collection of various one-shots based on possible cute meets between the Marinette/Ladybug and Adrien/Chat Noir, in all their various possible relationships.  Each chapter is a separate one-shot with a summary for that chapter at the beginning of each.  The latest one-shot's summary is listed below:"Scenes From a Balcony"A rough night playing the part of partying socialite model leaves Adrien drained and he retreats to his flat to recover.  As he peers out at the city nursing some sparkling water, he catches sight of his neighbor across the street stumbling into her apartment, arms filled with fabric bolts.  She trips over sofa, sending the fabric everywhere, and he can’t help but chuckle, only to be caught in the act as she scrambles to her feet and sends her would-be neighbor a glare.The next day, determined to apologize, Adrien tries to intercept the young woman and prove that he isn’t, as she presumes, an absolute jerk





	1. Postcards (Adrienette) - October 18th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Adrien moves into his first flat, he discovers postcards already in his mail box addressed to someone none of the neighbors seem to know. The postcards come from a young woman traveling the world for a few months named 'M' and her diligent, once a week cards make Adrien decide to hold on to them in hopes of delivering them to the correct receiver. However, with each postcard he gets, he learns more and more about 'M' and soon finds himself falling for the postcard's mysterious writer.

The lock clicked, unlocking, and Adrien held his breath. He placed a hand on the metal door handle and gave the wooden door with the numbers 404 screwed on it in metal letters a push. He stepped into the two bedroom corner flat on the fourth story of a building in Marais. The door opened wide and he walked through the narrow entry hall and into the open flat. 

His footsteps echoed in the room with each careful step on the hardwood. Pale green eyes looked around at the freshly painted white walls and curtainless windows allowing what light that pierced through the clouds of an early autumn day in. He drew his lips inward to keep from screaming out loud. 

This flat, though modest compared to where he lived before, was his. 

“Yes!” He jumped in the air and whirled around the room, not caring how silly he looked. Sure, it was empty and his bed hadn’t arrived yet, so he’d be sleeping on an air mattress he borrowed from Luka, but the flat was  _ his _ . His very first home, paid for with the savings from his modeling job. He had a sizable amount after over ten years of modeling. 

It was enough to purchase the place in a part of the city deemed acceptable to his family. His parents had come to check it out with him and his father had to approve of the neighborhood and building before he signed his name anywhere, but now, it was all his.

And as soon as the furniture he ordered arrived, he’d throw a party. 

Adrien walked through the empty flat, checking out the two bedrooms, the narrow baths, and the kitchen. He opened and closed the oven and then checked the new refrigerator his mother gifted to him and was delivered the day before. Everything seemed to be working. 

Barely containing his excitement, he walked out and began to carry in the boxes that were being piled outside his door. His blond hair fell over his eyes as he stacked them on top of each other. 

“Not that we don’t mind helping you,” a young woman with short, black hair said as she appeared, stepping in from the hallway with a small cart of boxes pulled behind her. “But why didn’t you just call a moving company?”

“I wanted to hang out with you guys. Besides, isn’t this how most people move into their first home?” Adrien gave her a winning smile, but the young woman just looked at him with deadpan brown eyes. 

“Are you slumming?”

“What? No!” The elevator dinged once more and this time a tall young man with dark hair and in ripped jeans walked in with a large box on his shoulder. Adrien looked at him with a pleading expression. “Luka, tell Kagami I’m not slumming.”

“Why would you be slumming?” Luka’s calm, placating voice drifted past them as he walked between. He looked at Adrien with clear blue eyes. “Where do you want this box?”

“Just put it in the center of the room,” Adrien said. “I’ll sort through it later.” 

“That old bodyguard of yours could’ve helped,” Kagami said. 

“He’s not my bodyguard any more. Besides, didn’t you guys say you wanted to help?”

“I was thinking more of decorating, not moving boxes.” 

“Come on, you two, we still have plenty of boxes to bring up from the van,” Luka said, cutting between the once more. “And we got a late start today because of the rain earlier.” 

Kagami marched into the flat. “Just bring things up to the door. I’ll bring them inside.” 

“See, Adrien, aren’t you glad you have such good friends?” Luka said as he and Adrien squeezed into the small elevator. “You’ll be moved in in no time.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said. “I’m just so excited. I can’t believe it’s finally mine. It took a year just to find this place. I’m so glad your sister recommended the building.” 

“When does all your furniture come in?” Luka asked as he nodded. “Do you need help setting up?”

“I might. Can I call you?”

“Sure thing. I can make time in between sessions and lessons.”

The elevator door dinged open and they walked out into the foyer of the building. Just as they stepped out, the mailman finished closing the last of the mailboxes in the hall. Adrien’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! Maybe I have mail!”

Luka laughed. “You just moved in. Did you even start forwarding your mail here?”

Adrien’s eyes darted to the side. “Well...not yet, but maybe there’s a flier or something for nearby take out.” 

“All right, well, you check. I’ll get the rest of those boxes before Kagami begins reprimanding us through the window for wasting time.” Luka patted Adrien on the shoulder and followed the mailman out the front door. 

Adrien reached into his pocket for the small ring of keys. He singled out a lone, shiny new metal key and looked for the mailbox to 404. When he found it, he stuck the key inside and turned it. 

Part of him was expecting it to be empty. The realtor who helped him get the place said that the flat had been vacant for a few months as the flat was one of three an old woman rented and when she passed, her children were trying to figure out how everything would be split before it was sold. 

Which was why he didn’t expect to see three small, rectangular pieces of cardstock waiting for him. Perhaps a pile of junk mail, but not  _ actual _ mail.

He reached into the metal box and pulled out what appeared to be three postcards, all from Asia. 

He flipped them around and saw that the post dates were sent from the previous month, consecutively. That meant that someone had sent it to the address when it was vacant.

“Okay, that’s kind of creepy....”

“What is?” Luka passed him, another large box on his shoulder. Adrien lifted up the postcards to show him as he closed the mailbox. 

“I got three postcards recently, but no one’s been in the flat for a few months.”

“Who is it addressed to? Maybe the last tenant had some friends send it over and they didn’t know their new address.” 

Adrien turned the glossy cards over. “It’s my address....Apartment 404....” He squinted at the scribbled cursive. “ _ Cher  _ A.M.....”

“Did the former tenant's initials spell AM?” 

“I don’t know,” Adrien said. He took a deep breath. “Well, whoever is sending them sent three in a row. Maybe one of my neighbors knows who they are and can let them know.”

“I think it’s worth a try.” Luka smiled. “Now, if you’re done. Do you think you can help with the boxes?” 

Adrien reached up and tucked the postcards into the box marked ‘winter wear’ and dashed out to the van outside. 

* * *

He had to admit, with no furniture or curtains, the flat felt somehow colder. He turned on the radiator of his bedroom, but it was still cooler than he’d like. His air mattress was inflated and Luka had dug out a bedding set specifically for the air mattress. There were two pillows he had hastily shoved into a box when he was moving from his parents’ manor that he was using until his bed and the rest of his ordered items arrived.

His mother dropped by with Nathalie, his parents’ “assistant”, earlier that afternoon, just as the last of the boxes had been dragged into the flat with some wine to give to Luka and Kagami for helping him. There was a nice mountain of boxes in the middle of each room.

Emelie did the same thing he did when she came in and checked out all the rooms once more.

Adrien proudly took her around, telling her what he bought and for where. She looked very pleased, but said it was the little things that made the place home, but to deal with them last. He was to take out the things he needed soon first, such as plates, utensils....

“Adrien, where are your towels?”

“In one of the boxes.”

“...which box?” Then they spent the next hour going through some of his foolishly unmarked boxes looking for them while Nathalie and Kagami unpacked brand new kitchen ware. 

Emelie and Adrien were just about to give up on the towels when Luka, having just set up the air mattress, walked out and told them he’d already put them away in the hall cabinets and in the toilets.

He was only a year older than twenty-three year old Adrien, but sometimes, Adrien swore he was decades more mature. 

After opening a bottle of champagne and arranging for a dinner once everything was in place, they left Adrien to relax in his new home. He’d put together a quick meal of cheese and bread his mother brought him and then wandered around, checking the rooms once more before retiring. 

He showered and changed in the bathroom, where a small wall mounted radiator did a good job of heating up the small room. He couldn’t find his hair dryer, so just used a towel; his mother was right about having things he needed out. Upon walking into his near bare bedroom, the early autumn evening chill made itself known. 

He laid across his stomach on the air mattress, scrolling through his phone when he succumbed to the chill and began to look for the box of ‘winter wear’ he had seen earlier that day. 

He walked barefoot across the flat, in a plain white shirt and black silk pajama bottoms, to the second bedroom, where most of the boxes he thought he wouldn't be needing immediately were piled against a wall. A lot of good that did him. 

“Sweater....sweater....” he said to himself as he moved aside some boxes to find a large cardboard box marked ‘winter wear’. As he lifted up the folded lid, a few pieces of paper fluttered to the ground. He knelt down and gathered them. 

He’d forgotten all about the postcards he found in the mail that day. He tried to make a mental note to ask the neighbors if they knew of an ‘A.M.’ who resided there before him. 

Adrien took a seat on the floor beside the pile of boxes as he flipped over the postcards to read the scribbles. He selected the oldest one, sent over a month ago from Hong Kong. 

_ Cher A.M., _

_ Today is my first day on my own after visiting with Mama’s family. I decided to go and visit Cheng Sha Wan for fabrics. There were a few things I wanted to buy, but don’t have room for. Should I just buy them and mail them home? Choices choices. Tonight, I’m going to pack up for a day trip to Macau tomorrow. Can’t wait! Heard the food is amazing! Here’s to a great trip! _

_ Bien à vous _

_ M _

He smiled to himself. Some really good authentic food from Macau sounded good on a chilly autumn night. 

He moved on to the next card. It was sent a week after the previous one, but this time from Seoul. 

_ Cher A.M., _

_ I know that I should visit more museums and historical sites, but I’m finding myself going window shopping and eating. What can I say? I grew up in a bakery! It is lovely here and a lot of the clothes fit my frame. I don’t think I’d have to tailor them! Definitely want to buy clothes, but I’m on my own for three months. I need to save money...but after some street food.  _

_ Bien à vous _

_ M _

Adrien gathered that the sender was a young woman probably backpacking across Asia. Perhaps she was around his age, but she must’ve been of Chinese descent and was perhaps a fashion enthusiast. 

She didn't write much; a postcard could only hold so much information. It was interesting to grow up in a bakery. He understood how busy parents who owned their own business could be and began to feel a little camaraderie with ‘M’. He moved on to the last card and looked at the red painted temple grounds overlooking a city situated in a valley. Looks like she was still somewhere in Asia. 

_ Cher AM, _

_ I splurged. Sorry! I know - I only have so much money, but I’m willing to eat convenience store food (which is really good here) the last few days in Kyoto if it means I could buy that red yukata with the gold and black silk obi. My luggage only has so much room, so I’m mailing it to Alya. She said she’d bring them over when I get back. We’re so lucky! Best friends are amazing....and I may have gotten her a yukata, too. She looks good in orange, no?  _

_ Bien à vous _

_ M _

There were little hearts next to the last sentence and Adrien chuckled. Whoever ‘M’ was really adored her friends. He could relate. When he was out of the country for work, he’d often try to bring back something for Kagami and Luka. They were his two closest friends: Kagami from fencing and Luka from various music recitals. 

Remembering them, he made another mental note to send them a text to thank them again for helping that day. He pushed himself up and grabbed the first sweater he could find from inside the box. 

He tugged it on and as he turned around to head back to his room, he stopped. He looked back at the trio of postcards on the floor beside the moving box.

‘M’ meant for them to go to someone special if she was writing every week. If it were him, he’d hope that his letters got to the right recipients and were treated with care. 

He swept them up and brought them back to his room, placing them in a small wooden box meant for holding spare change and keys that was atop a cardboard box next to his air mattress. 

In the morning, if he saw his neighbors, he would ask them if they knew who ‘A.M.’ was.

* * *

“It’s not that I don’t know how to put it together,” Adrien said from the floor of his bedroom, where he sat helplessly surrounded by bed parts. He just had to go shopping at a store that required you to assemble your furniture. He could hear his father’s voice in his head telling him to get ‘real furniture’, but no...he wanted to be just like other twenty-something year old starting out. His phone was in his hand as he looked at the various parts strewn across the wooden floor, beside the deflated air mattress. “It’s just that I think this would go a lot faster with two people.”

“How long have you been working on it?” Luka asked from the other end of the conversation.

Adrien hoped he couldn’t see his face. “I just opened it up....”  _ Three hours ago.  _

“How far have you gotten?” 

“I unpacked everything. Does that count?” There was silence on the other end.

“I’m going to pick up some food and come over right Mdm. Martin picks up her son from guitar lessons. Don’t deflate the air mattress yet in case we don’t finish tonight,” Luka said. 

Adrien’s eyes darted across the room. “Um....”

“You already deflated the mattress, didn’t you?”

“I need the floor space to work.”

Luka chuckled. “I’ll be there soon Don’t touch anything else.”

“You’re the best Luka. Oh! Can you get some... _ pho _ ?” He pushed himself up and walked to the box against the wall with the wooden change box. “I’ll pay.”

“It is kind of cold out tonight. Beef noodle soup is a good idea. I’ll see you, soo.” Adrien knelt down and picked up the most recent postcard. 

‘M’ was in Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon, as it said on the postcard and wrote about her search for good pho.

A week earlier, he’d received another one from Tokyo, where ‘M’ spent the night and lamented the lack of hot baths at her hotel; something she needed after getting on two wrong trains and nearly ending up in Yokohama. 

“Soaking in the tub is fine, but not the same as in the  _ onsen _ ....” she had written. “Oh well, next time.”

Adrien chuckled. He’d been to Japan once with Kagami and he had to agree. There were also more notes detailing her food adventures, fashion, and about how someone named Kim told her to try the pastries in Vietnam.

The Vietnam postcard confirmed that Kim was right and if she wasn’t walking everywhere, she’d gained weight. She did, however, miss eating with ‘everyone’.

Adrien sighed and wandered out into his living area. He’d managed to put together a table the day before, but it only had one place setting. He wrinkled his nose; he understood where ‘M’ was coming from. He was used to having dinner with his parents and if not with them, then with Luka or Kagami or at least an acquaintance from work or university. 

At first, eating alone was fine. He was busy unpacking and working on applications to graduate school for physics most nights. A few times, he’d been out to eat with his mother or had a business related meal with the agency or his father’s company. 

So, he didn’t have much time to think about eating alone in his flat. 

Then his table came in and he sat down, solo. He didn’t want to admit that he was, perhaps even a little, lonely living by himself. That was definitely not why he called Luka. He was just really bad at putting together furniture. He’d only managed to put together one chair for the dining table. 

Still, he found himself hoping that ‘M’ wouldn’t get too lonely on her round the world trip. By his count, she still had a month and a half to go.

* * *

“You’ve been keeping them?” Kagami picked up the newest postcard that he placed on the kitchen counter as they entered the flat, canvas bags of food from their morning farmer’s market run rustling around them as they shuffled in. 

Two months since he moved in and this was his twelfth postcard from ‘M’. Well, not necessary  _ his _ , but until he could find the receiver, he’d hold on to them. 

“I can’t throw them away. I need to find out who this A.M. is so they can get them.” 

Kagami leaned against the pantry door and flipped the card from Morocco over. 

“ _ Cher A.M., I thought Sydney was hot. I’m not at all prepared for this heat _ ,” she read out loud. Adrien gasped and whirled around.

“Kagami, don’t read it!” He hastily placed the bags on the counter and scrambled to get the postcard. Kagami merely stepped to the side, easily avoiding him. She walked out into the now furnished living room, keeping the sofa between them.

“ _ I am starting to miss France’s weather, but I’ll be back on the continent soon. Just when I thought the homesickness has passed, it returns. _ ”

“Kagami!” Adrien chased after her, his face reddening.

She glanced up and raised a brow. “It’s a postcard, Adrien. Not a love letter.”

He knew that, but he couldn’t help but get even more flustered. “I know, but she wrote this specifically for A.M.!”

“How do you know it’s a she?” She held out the card and he all but swept it out of her hands. 

“Her...uh...handwriting. She puts little hearts and flowers sometimes,” Adrien said. And that wasn’t all he figured out from her postcards.

Her best friend was a woman named Alya who was getting married; ‘M’ was planning to acquire lace in Italy for her. Her parents owned a bakery with macarons that no other anywhere else she’d traveled to could match. She loved fashion and clothes and had a sketchbook she’d already filled up with ideas. 

She loved the color pink and sunsets and views of city skylines in the night. “Breathtaking” she called them. She liked coffee and hoped to find Vietnamese coffee when she got back. 

‘M’ often wished she could call Alya, but didn’t want to bother her since there was a time difference. She struggled with her English sometimes and was a bit of a klutz, having broke her sunglasses twice already, as well as the straps of a pair of slippers. She was inspired to update her portfolio and had ideas for interior lining fabric patterns based on architecture she’d admired in Southeast Asia. 

All those little details in a handful of postcards piled one on top of the other and Adrien found himself wondering more and more about the mysterious ‘M’; more so than who A.M was. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to daydream about the woman who ‘M’ was, but he couldn’t help it. Even during the most recent fittings and photo shoots, his mind had drifted.

Where was ‘M’ going next? What did she hope to eat there? Did she find that perfect souvenir for her father? He hoped she was safe and would find her away across wherever she was. He hoped she came home soon.... 

Kagami narrowed her eyes. “So _ you’ve  _ read them.....”

He brought the card against his chest. He knew he shouldn’t have, but they were postcards and the writing was  _ right there _ . “I’m hoping to find clues as to who A.M. is!”

“Right...,” Kagami said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you asked the neighbors?” 

Adrien’s shoulders fell. He looked down and shook his head. “I asked, but they said the last tenants were an artsy couple from Berlin, plus their initials don’t match.” 

“So what are you going to do?” Kagami asked. She looked towards the card. “You can’t keep them forever.”

His chest ached a little. He looked down at the postcard’s message and the now familiar ‘M’ at the bottom. “I know.” 

Kagami seemed to watch him a bit longer, before she sighed. “Those are someone else’s postcards.”

“I know.”

“It’s a little weird to grow attached to them.” 

“I know that, too,” he said. He walked back to the kitchen and placed the postcard picture side up on the counter. He began to unbag the groceries. “It’s just been fun reading about her adventures in other countries. She’s so lucky to be able to do so.”

“You could, too, if you want,” Kagami said, walking over and watching him unpack. “You won’t be starting graduate school until next year.”

“But I still have work,” Adrien said with a pointed look. “It’s been chaos after fashion week and then the ready wear line photos need to be shot. That doesn’t include the few interviews I have for graduate positions.” 

“So you’re just going to live vicariously through this ‘M’ person?” 

“I’m not living vicariously through her,” Adrien said. “I just think she sounds interesting.” 

Kagami’s eyes widened just a bit. “Interesting? And you’re basing this all off some postcards?”  
He opened the fridge to put in some vegetables. “I know, it’s crazy. I’m basically reading someone else’s mail on the travels of some woman I’ve never met.”

“And probably never will,” Kagami said. She pushed herself away from the counter. “Don’t get too attached. She’s not going to send postcards forever, you know.” 

“Yeah...I know.” He sighed and lowered his head. He knew that. He knew exactly how long ‘M’ would be gone, but still didn’t know who she was. It was unlikely she’d come looking for her lost postcards, either. 

Their conversation lapsed into silence and Kagami checked her phone. “I need to go. Mother is expecting me for lunch.”

Adrien gave her a nod. “Tell her hello for me.”

“Of course.” Kagami walked to the door and paused. “Adrien.”

“Yes?” 

“What makes her ‘interesting’?” 

He hovered over a wheel of cheese on the counter. “I suppose...it’s because she’s traveling alone to these places she’s never been...willing to try new things and learn. There is hesitation in her postcards sometimes, but she goes through with her plans anyway, even if there are setbacks.” He trailed off and glanced at the postcard on the counter. “I guess I think she’s brave.” 

The corner of Kagami’s lips pulled up into a small smile. “When you put it like that, she does sound interesting.” 

He gave her a small smile in return as she walked out the door. Adrien looked back at the postcard. He picked it up and turned it over, re-reading the cursive on the other side. 

Interesting was just one way of describing what he felt about ‘M’. He was afraid there was something else that was building, as somewhere along the line, finding a postcard in his mailbox had gone from thoughtful curiosity to making his heart quicken. 

And even he knew that was dangerous.

* * *

‘M’ was in Italy. 

Adrien stared at the glossy picture of the Coliseum on the postcard dated just a few days earlier. She was on the continent now and had met up with her Italian grandmother. She was having fun exploring with ‘Nonna’ and was so happy to have someone to travel with after so long. 

Her postcard had more doodles on the edges than usual; something he decided was a measure of how happy she was feeling. 

Yet, for the first time since he began receiving the cards, seeing her postcard in his mailbox that afternoon sent an unexpected feeling of dread through him. He hesitated to pull it out and he wasn’t sure why. He slid it into the side pocket of his bag before taking the elevator to his flat and tried to forget it was there.

He went searching for it as soon as he hung up his heavy wool coat when he got home. 

Adrien knew she was closer to Paris than before, meaning that soon, her trip round the world was going to end. The end of the trip meant the end of the postcards. 

The thought of no more postcards was more than just disappointing. It hurt.

He swallowed hard.

That shouldn’t have mattered. They weren’t even for him. They were for an A.M. he still didn’t know. However, after all those postcards, part of him wanted to find ‘M’. He was sure he’d have better luck finding ‘M’ with all the little clues in the cards than he would finding A.M. 

Yet, the very thought of doing so made him feel like he was crazy. 

They were  _ just _ postcards, as Kagami said. It was an unfortunate accident that they ended in his mailbox to begin with. 

Adrien let out a heavy breath and buried his face in his arms as he sat on the sofa; the postcard lay on the low coffee table in front of him. A handful of short letters on souvenirs shouldn’t have affected him like they did. He shouldn’t have kept them, every single one of them, in a small wooden box next to his bed.

That couldn’t have been healthy. 

“You don’t know her,” he told himself out loud as he lifted his head to look back at the card. But the thought of her made his heart race.

He knew, deep down, that he’d never meet her or A.M. 

He knew that he should just throw out the postcards. 

He knew that falling in love with some woman he’d never met based on her brief, journal-like entries on pieces of cardstock was ridiculous, if not absolutely insane. 

He didn’t know how she looked like, how she sounded, where she lived or what she did for a living. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the postcards. Whoever ‘M’ was wrote diligently every week to A.M. 

He knew that they were written with care and thoughtfulness. He knew that wherever she went, she was trying her best. He couldn’t bring himself to just throw them away.

“How many more until they stop?” Luka’s voice asked behind him, from the kitchen where he was making coffee. They’d been playing guitar and synthesizer since Luka dropped by to try to distract themselves from the cold. 

“They come every week, maybe...two more or so,” Adrien said, still staring at the postcard. 

Luka walked into the living room with two mugs and handed one to Adrien. “So...around Christmas? Do you want to look for her?” 

Adrien shook his head. “I’m not crazy. And I’d look like a stalker.”

Luka sat down on the arm chair across from him and took a slow drink from his mug. “Do you think she’s writing to a boyfriend?” 

Adrien shook his head a second time. “No. She wouldn’t write ‘yours truly’ if it was to a boyfriend.” 

Luka leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “But there is a good chance she’s coming back to someone.”

“I know.” He took a long sip, allowing the hot liquid to warm him up. If he was that intrigued by her words alone, what more of her as a whole person? “Am I losing my mind, Luka? I think I’ve fallen for a bunch of postcards.” 

A low chuckle came from the man across from him. “It’s not just a bunch of postcards. They are someone’s words and thoughts.”

“So...what you’re saying is I’ve fallen for someone’s mind?” That didn’t sound as bad.

“Yes, but not knowing and experiencing them personally also means that your infatuation fills in the blanks,” Luka said. “I’m worried that you’re creating an idealized version of ‘M’ and, while the chances are slim, if you ever meet her, your idealized version won’t match up with reality and you could get hurt.”

Adrien let out a groan and tilted his head back against the sofa cushions. “Somehow, that makes this entire thing worse,” he said. “What do you think I should do?”

“To be honest, you have two choices,” Luka said, looking at the postcard. “First, you can go on a mad hunt across Paris in two weeks to try to find ‘M’ based on her postcards. If you find and meet her, reality will hit you, but you could be very disappointed. Plus, I’m sure it would make her uncomfortable that some man she’s never met before spent all that time looking for her for a bunch of postcards. And that’s only  _ if _ you find her.” 

“And the second?” Adrien turned his head to look at Luka, exhausted. His friend looked up to meet his gaze with a knowing sad one.

“Throw the postcards away,” Luka said. “And forget about her before this gets worse.” 

* * *

He was sure it was a blessing that his mother called him and invited him to join her and his father for holidays in Switzerland. He received the call shortly after Luka left the night they decided to throw away the postcards, if only for his sanity. However, he never physically threw them out.

Adrien planned to, but then his mother called and he spent the next two days digging through his things for all the items he’d need for his trip to his mother’s friend’s chalet: winter wear, snow wear, his favorite snow boots, snowboarding clothes, and some of the warmest pajamas he owned. 

Christmas in Switzerland with his parents momentarily pushed aside the postcards or at least he willed it to. 

When they were there, he spent half his time on a mountain and the other half wandering around with his mother, eating and shopping. Even there, on his own holiday, his mind drifted back to ‘M’ during the most random moments.

Drinking hot chocolate with his mother and trying some local cheese dish made him wonder if ‘M’ would like it. The patterns on houses; he wondered if ‘M’ would find inspiration for patterns on them. Shopping at a Christmas market? ‘M’ would’ve loved it. And he would’ve loved walking through with her.

“Are you all right,  _ mon ange _ ?” his mother asked him when she caught him running his hand down his face, frustrated that he couldn’t get some mysterious postcard writer out of his head. 

“I’m fine,  _ Maman _ .” He gave her his best smile, the one that made people turn their heads and look at him. 

“Is it the worry of not knowing?” Emelie asked. He almost ran into the awning pole of a Christmas market shop. 

“The what?” His voice must’ve risen an octave. His mother furrowed her brows.

“Of not knowing about whether or not you’ve been accepted into the graduate program,” Emelie said. He still stared at her, as if he had seen a ghost. She lifted her hand and cupped his face, patting it gently. “Adrien, do not worry. You were at the top of your class and had papers published on research you aided with. No university will turn you down,” she said with motherly reassurance. “You will get in. And even if you don’t, your _ Pere _ and I are still very proud of you..”

His heart had nearly jumped out of his chest and even after his mother attempted to comfort him, he couldn’t relax. For a moment, he thought his mother knew and thought her son had lost his mind. 

He became more determined than ever to throw the postcards away when he returned. His deepest apologies to A.M., but A.M. would never get their postcards. 

As his parents’ driver drove him to Marais and rolled to a stop in front of his building, he began to go over where all the postcards were so he could collect them and throw them into the dumpster in the alleyway. It wouldn’t do just to toss them into a bin in his flat. What if he lapsed and went to dig them out? 

No, he had to get rid of the postcards completely. 

“Thanks for the ride!” Adrien said as he opened the door of the black sedan. The driver, his former bodyguard, rounded the vehicle to open the trunk and lifted out Adrien’s luggage as Adrien stood on the curb, rummaging through a backpack to find his keys. He fished them out just as his luggage was placed beside him. He thanked the driver once more and grabbed the handle to drag it alongside him. 

He entered the foyer, shuddering at how cold it was even inside the building. In a few days, it would be January and it would get even colder. 

He walked across the hall to get to the mailboxes. Across from the entrance, the small elevator opened and the silence of the foyer was overcome with the chatter of two women emerging. Adrien briefly glanced up; he didn’t recognize them. Perhaps they lived on another floor.

“They couldn’t have lost all of them,” said the petite young woman with thick, black hair tied up in a neat bun. “One or two, I could understand, but I sent almost twenty.” 

Something compelled Adrien to stop in the midst of opening his mailbox. A few spaces down from him, the brunette in dark jeans, an oversized knit sweater, and ballerina flats opened her mailbox and peered inside. 

A pained look filled her pretty, heart shaped face and she looked at her friend with the red-dyed hair and glasses. “Anything?” the young woman with the glasses asked, hopeful.

“Nothing.” She closed the mail box and stared at it with a mixture of disbelief and despondence. “I don’t understand, Alya. It’s like they disappeared into thin air.”

Adrien froze. Did the woman just call the other one ‘Alya’? Alya as in ‘M’s’ best friend? He couldn’t help but look up and stare at the black-haired woman. Was she A.M.?

“Hey, hey.” Alya stepped closer to comfort her. “We can still ask the mailman if he’s seen them.”

“But what if they never got here? It would be just like me to not buy enough postage or put it in the wrong box when I was mailing them!”

Alya wrapped her arms around the other woman. “It’ll be all right, Marinette.” 

“Marinette?” Her name escaped his lips before he even realized it. The two women turned to look at him: Marinette looked confused and Alya frowned. 

“Can we help you?” Alya asked in a stern voice. 

Adrien opened his mouth. “I...um...sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. But did you say her name is Marinette?” 

The two women exchanged looks. Alya stepped around Marinette and stood between them. “I’m sorry, sir, but does she know you?” 

“No, no, she doesn’t. I’m new to the building,” Adrien said, pointing up. “It’s just...Marinette with a ‘ _ M _ ’?” He couldn’t remember the last time he asked such a stupid question.

Alya narrowed her eyes at him. “How else do you spell Marinette?”

Adrien cringed. He backed up into the wall and turned to the mailboxes. His eyes widened. “Wait,” he said. There should’ve been two more. He’d been gone for two weeks, so he must’ve received the last two cards. He shoved the key into the mailbox and turned it with a shaking hand. It opened with ease and he reached in, grabbing a stack of mail as his heart slammed against his chest. He gathered the papers against him and plucked out a small, rectangular card and held it up.

Alya’s unimpressed eyes scanned the paper and she raised a brow. “Ten percent off at the Persian restaurant down the street?” 

“What?” Adrien turned the card around and felt his face heat up. It was a coupon. “Sorry, that’s not it!” He shut his mailbox and put his mail down on the short counter jutting out from the wall. He riffled through before he caught a glimpse of Budapest’s river walk. He grabbed it and held it up. He looked right past Alya to Marinette, who was craning her neck to see what he was holding. Somehow, he was out of breath and his voice was tight. “Are you ‘M’?” 

He held his breath.

Marinette leaned forward and saw the card. Her blue eyes went wide and she darted in front of Alya, reaching for it. “My postcard! You got my postcard!” 

He handed it to her and watched as she lifted it up to show Alya, beaming with joy. A slow, warm smile filled his face. So, this was her...he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He had decided that he’d never meet her, but there she was and he couldn’t stop looking at her. 

“Thank you so much!” Marinette turned to look at him. “There was nothing in my box when I got back and-”

“Marinette,” Alya said, holding the postcard. She turned it around. “I think I figured out why you haven’t gotten any.” Marinette turned around and gave her friend a quizzical look. Alya held up the card and pointed to the apartment number. “What does this say?”

“409.”

Adrien drew his head back.  _ Now _ he knew why he was receiving her postcards. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. He’d gotten it wrong the whole time. They weren’t being sent to _ his _ mailbox.

“Wrong!” Alya said. “Marinette, your ‘9’ looks like a ‘4’. It’s been going to the wrong address!” 

“What?” Marinette grabbed the postcard from Alya’s hand and scrutinized it. Her eyes crinkled up. “I...I suppose it can be seen as a ‘4’....” She began to turn red. “I’m such an idiot....”

Adrien tried his best to keep from smiling. “Can you give me a second? I’ll be right back.” She looked up at him and gave him a curious look as he rushed to the elevator. “Just one minute! I’ll be right back. Please wait!” 

He frantically pressed the button to his floor, giving the two women a pleading look as the doors closed. He grabbed his key and tapped his foot as he waited for the elevator to open. As soon as it did, he raced out and ran to his door. He fumbled with the key. Why was he fumbling with his key? 

“Come on...let me in...,” he said just before the door unlocked and he shoved his way through. He abandoned his luggage in the hall and tossed the mail on the kitchen counter as he ran past to his bedroom.

He burst through his door, his eyes zooming in on the stack of postcards neatly placed at his bedside. He cringed and made a mental note not to tell her that. 

Instead, he grabbed the bundle and raced back outside. He pressed the elevator buttons. Was the elevator always that slow? He knew it wasn’t fast, like the one his father had to his lower level wine cellar, but Adrien didn’t remember it being that slow. It dinged and the doors opened. He dove in, pressing the button for the ground floor like an excited child. 

He hoped she waited. He probably looked like a maniac begging her to when he ran off, but at that moment, he only wanted to give her the postcards. Anything to see her smile so brilliantly again. He lifted his hand to his chest and tried to order himself to calm down. 

_ Let’s be reasonable. Just because you met her doesn’t mean you know anything about her past the postcards. _ He told himself. He took a deep breath and managed to compose himself by the time the elevator reached the ground floor. 

The doors opened and the ding echoed in the hall. He looked up and saw Marinette stand up straight from where she was leaning against the mail boxes. She was alone and the postcard he had given her earlier was still in her hands. She met his gaze and offered a smile. 

Adrien stepped out and held out the bundle of postcards. “I believe these are yours.” 

Her eyes went wide once more as a smile filled her face. “Are these all my postcards?” 

“I think so,” Adrien said. “I started receiving them when I moved in a few months ago. I’m glad I held on to them.”

“I’m glad, too,” she said. “I would’ve been devastated if I didn’t get at least one. These are my memories.” She clutched the bundle against her.

Adrien raised a hand and ran it through his hair. “I thought that maybe they were being sent to whoever lived in my flat before me, but my neighbors said that their initials weren’t A.M.”

Marinette looked up from the postcards she was flipping through and gave him a confused look. “A.M.?”

He nodded. “They’re addressed to A.M., aren’t they?”

Marinette flipped over the card. “A.M. stands for  _ Avenir  _ Marinette.” Oh... _ Future _ Marinette. “I was sending myself postcards to remember my trip. Thank so much for holding on to them. I’m really sorry about the mistake. I’m sure it was very confusing.” 

Adrien shook his head. “It was nothing, really...and I should apologize, as well. In trying to figure out who they belonged to, I did read them.”

Her cheeks reddened and he was sure his did, too. “All of them?” she asked in a quiet voice.

He looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry...I started to get really into your adventures. I think it’s amazing that you were able to travel on your own to so many places.” He took a step back and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read them.”

“No, no, it’s my fault. My terrible handwriting put them in your possession. And they’re postcards; it would be difficult not to read them,” she said, looking down as she shifted in place. She glanced up, almost shy. “It must’ve been strange to get all these postcards from a stranger.”

He let out a low breath. “It was,” he said. “But I’m still glad I held on to them.” 

She smiled a bit. “Like I was saying, I can’t thank you enough. If you ever need any tailoring or something....” Her eyes seemed to go down his body, taking in the heavy wool coat, the designer scarf, and shoes. It must’ve been clear he was well dressed and had a good eye. It was drilled into him by his father, after all. 

Adrien tilted his head to the side and offered her a smile. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Well, if i can’t do any tailoring, what about bread?”

“Marinette-”

“Um...I mentioned my parents have a bakery,” she said, lifting up the cards as if to show him. “Would you like some baguettes or a box of macarons? Tom and Sabine’s is the best in the city, you know.” 

He smiled and laughed to himself. “I read that. I didn’t know the name of the bakery, but you did brag about their macarons.” 

Marinette smiled a bit. “It feels kind of unfair that you know so much about me.”

“Yeah....” he said. “It does.” He looked past her, out the glass door of their building foyer. He saw the open door of a corner shop. A sense of daring gripped him. He didn’t know when he’d have a chance like this again. The woman he’d been so curious had appeared just when he was ready to give up and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try. He gave her a hopeful smile. “Should we remedy that?” 

She drew her head back, surprised. “Remedy?”

He walked around her. “Can you give me another minute?” he asked as he walked towards the door. He saw her look confused, but nod as he pushed the door open to get outside. 

Adrien crossed the street, ignoring the light rain that began to mist down as he ran into a small corner shop. A moment later, he was running back and let himself into the foyer. Marinette watched him as he took out a postcard he purchased from underneath his coat. 

An old picture of the Eiffel Tower was on the front and Adrien turned it around and placed it on the small counter in front of the mail boxes. He reached into his breast pocket and took out a pen. He began to write something down on the back of the card. 

When he was done, he lifted it up again, showing her the picture of the tower. “409, was it?” 

Marinette was smiling. She nodded. “409.” 

He looked for the mailbox and slipped it into the small, narrow slot on its metal door. “When you have time, please check your mail.” 

He walked around her and headed back to the elevator. She was giggling as the doors closed and once they did, he fell back against the back and let out a breath. He reached up and touched his flushed face, hoping she didn’t notice how nervous he was. 

He dug into his pocket and fished out his phone. He looked at the darkened screen, recalling what he had written on the card. 

_ Cher M, _

_ Today, I met a lovely young woman in my building. She seems very kind and just got back from a trip. Perhaps she would like to have dinner with me one night? _

_ Bien à vous _

_ A _

It included his phone number. He thought that was his best bet; if she was interested, then she could call. If not and she already had someone or just didn’t like him, then he’d let it be. At the very least, he gave it a shot and the postcards found their way home. 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Adrien stepped out and began to walk to his flat. Just as he reached the door, the phone in his hand began to vibrate. He glanced down and his heart shot to this throat. 

He didn’t recognize the local number. 

He swallowed once more and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Is this  _ Monsieur  _ A?” He held his breath. It was her. “I received your postcard in my mailbox.” 

“I see,” he said, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt. “Yes, this is  _ Monsieur _ A. Does  _ Mademoiselle  _ M have an answer to my inquiry?” 

The elevator dinged again and he glanced over his shoulder as he opened his door. A woman stepped out, also holding a phone against her ear. “I do,” she said, catching his eyes as she smiled. “But first....” She lowered the phone and ended the call with a swipe of her finger. She walked towards him and stopped an arm’s length away. “What is your  _ Monsieur _ A’s name?” 

He brought the phone down from his head and smiled. “Adrien.” 

“Adrien,” she repeated. Her cheeks were pink as she smiled and extended her hand. “My name is Marinette.” 

His hand wrapped around her small one as he held her gaze, still smiling fondly. “Marinette...it’s great to finally meet you.” 

* * *

**A Quick Epilogue**

“So there were two waiting in the mailbox for you when you got back,” Kagami said. “Did you throw them away?” 

She was seated on an armchair in the living room, holding a glass of white wine as Luka placed a wooden tray of cheeses on the coffee table, along with Adrien’s chocolate from Switzerland and Kagami’s regional gifts from her New Years trip to Japan. It was a relaxing Saturday night; the first all three of them were able to get together since before the holidays. 

“Not exactly,” Adrien said. He was in the kitchen, arranging some fruit on a plate to bring over. “I haven’t told you guys yet.”

“Told us what?” Luka asked. He took a seat on the sofa and leaned back, placing an arm over the back of the sofa to look at him.

Adrien opened his mouth when he heard a knock at the door. Kagami raised a brow. “Are you expecting anyone else?”

“Just one more person,” Adrien said as he wiped his hand on a dish towel. He smiled from ear to ear, almost proud of himself. “I met ‘M’.” 

At that, Kagami and Luka were sitting up straight with wide eyed looks of disbelief as he walked into the hall to open the door.

“Sorry I’m late! Papa insisted I wait for this batch to finish to bring over.” 

“It's no problem. Thanks for coming and bringing the bread.” Rustling could be heard and he walked back in with a white paper bag in one hand and the hand of a pretty young woman in the other. “Marinette, I’d like you to meet my friends Kagami and Luka.”

“Marinette?” Luka’s eyes went wide as he stood up. 

“Luka! I didn’t know you knew Adrien!” Marinette was already crossing the room, but instead of heading to Luka, she was making a beeline to Kagami. “And you, too. When did you get back?”

“Just a few days ago. Marinette, since when did you live here?” Kagami was on her feet, hugging Marinette and exchanging warm greeting kisses on the cheek. 

“It was Nonna’s place after she and Grandpa divorced. She was having it fixed up for me over the summer and I didn’t get to move in until before I left for China with Mama. I didn’t want to invite everyone over until I got back and settled in,” Marinette said. She released Kagami and moved over to Luka, also giving him kisses on the cheek. “Happy New Year; how’s your mom?” 

“She’s doing great,” Luka said. He looked past the top of her head, at Adrien who stood in the kitchen, looking at them with bewilderment. “Say, Marinette...how do you know Adrien?”

She blushed and laughed. “It’s a weird story, actually. I was writing these postcards to myself and I have terrible handwriting, so they went to 404 instead of 409.”

Several pairs of eyes were fixed on her. “Wait,” Kagami said. “Are you ‘M’?”   


Marinette tilted her head to the side. “Yeah...did Adrien tell you about the postcards?” 

Kagami’s eyes moved across the room, to Adrien, and a slow smirk reached her face. “As a matter of fact-”

“I mentioned it a few times since I was trying to find out who the receiver was!” Adrien said, darting between them and almost slamming down a plate of fruit on the coffee table. His face was red as Marinette drew her head back. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he said, looking from Luka and Kagami and back. “But how do you all know each other?” He sounded almost pained and Marinette took his hand and patted it gently, though clearly unsure why he looked so defeated.

“Marinette is my little sister’s friend,” Luka said. “That’s how Juleka knew about the vacancy in the building.”

“We met on a friendship app challenge a few years ago,” Kagami said. “Marinette and I have been friends for ten years now.” Beside her, Marinette nodded her head, pleased to confirm it was true. 

Adrien stared at them. “Did either of you know she was on a trip around the world?”

“I heard she was in Asia,” Luka said, as if just remembering.

“And we’ve been talking online while she was abroad,” Kagami said, lifting her phone. Adrien’s face fell. “Don’t make that face. You never let us read the postcards; we couldn’t have made the connection.”

“Is something wrong?” Marinette asked, looking at the group. “Adrien?”

“I’m just...I just need to sit down.” He ran his hand through his hair as he reached back for the sofa. 

Marinette rubbed his back. “You rest. I’ll go prepare the bread.”

“I’ll come with you.” Kagami followed after her. As they disappeared into the kitchen, Adrien leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.

“You okay, Adrien?”

“Almost four months....” 

“What?”

“I was obsessing over who ‘M’ was for four months and the entire time....” He was muttering and shaking his head. “The entire time  _ you two _ knew who she was.”

“Sorry, Adrien. We didn’t know she was the one writing the postcards,” Luka said, patting his shoulder. “If we knew, we would’ve told you.” He looked down at Adrien and gave him a gentle smile. “It doesn’t seem like it ended badly, though, did it?” 

Adrien, with his face still in his hands shook his head. “She’s even more amazing in person.” 

“I know.”

“She’s a designer.”

“I know.”

“Her parents own a bakery.”

“Yes, the best in Paris.”

Adrien peeked out from between his fingers and gave Luka a little glare. “Anything else I should know?” 

Luka raised his arms up and glanced away. “Maybe I had a crush on her when I was a teenager?” Adrien’s mouth dropped. “I swear it’s no longer the case. We’re just friends now.”

Before Adrien could say anything else, he heard giggling behind him and looked over his shoulder. Kagami and Marinette were laughing to themselves, occasionally glancing in his direction. Adrien paled. “That can’t be good.” 

He saw Kagami elbow Marinette a bit and Marinette walked out with a small tray of sliced bread. “Luka, can you help me with the meats?” Kagami said, rather loud. It was a set up.

Luka was on his feet. “On it.” 

He passed Marinette, who placed the tray on the coffee table and took his seat. She said nothing as she carefully arranged some cheese onto a piece of bread and brought it to her lips. 

“So,” she said as she bit into it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at him. “You kept my postcards on your nightstand.”

“Oh God.” Adrien groaned and shoved his face back into his hands. “She told you? You must think I’m so weird.”   


Marinette giggled and scooted closer to him. “Not particularly. If you just moved in, you’d put it where you could easily find it while you were organizing stuff,” she said. “Besides, that’s where I put the postcard with your phone number.” He lifted his head and looked at her, surprised as she reached his side and began to nestle against him. 

“You...you kept it?” A light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Of course,” she said. Marinette lifted the remainder of her bread to his lips and he took a small, tentative bite before putting his arm around her. She gave him a cheeky smile. “By the way...when am I getting another one?” 

* * *

**The End**


	2. Emilie & Marguerite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment Emilie Agreste watched her precious only son collide with one of her husband’s new employees, she knew that they were made for each other. And while it wasn’t as if she thought Adrien couldn’t get a girlfriend on his own, it didn’t seem likely that he’d pursue this particular girl. 
> 
> With her papillon dog, Marguerite, at her side and Nathalie helping orchestrate her plans, Emilie embarks on a not so secret mission to not only introduce Adrien to budding designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but to set up their romance and secure herself (and a somewhat concerned Gabriel) a daughter-in-law.

This was the life she wanted. A doting husband; a kind son; and a small adorable dog all living happily together in a comfortable Parisian home. It was a life many people could only dream of and she knew she was lucky. 

“Adrien, you get back here!” A door slammed, echoing across the house as Emilie took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. A moment later, she heard it bang as it was thrown open. “Don’t you walk away from me!”

She knew she was lucky, but not lucky enough.

Her son’s heavy footsteps stomped down the grandiose staircase, heading for the foyer. She could already sense the tension in the air as beside her on a stuffed chair, her little brown and white papillon, Marguerite, perked her head up at the noise. 

Her husband’s voice came from the top of the stairs outside the parlor and Emilie decided it was time to get involved. She put her cup of afternoon coffee on the small table between her and Marguerite and stood up.

She reached for her cane; her slender fingers wrapping around the metal handle shaped like a peacock that wrapped around the top, as she made her way outside. 

“I am twenty-two years old, you can’t keep me here!” Adrien said. 

Another day, another argument. She paused at the door way, taking in the sight of her tall, handsome son standing with his hand poised on the metal door handle as up the stairs across from him, her husband glowered down. 

“It is dangerous for you to leave the country unescorted. If you wish to go to St. Barts, you will do so with bodyguards and that is final.” 

“Bodyguards?” Adrien sounded pained at the thought and Emilie could understand why. His entire life, he’d been sheltered and, after her accident in Tibet when he was twelve, he wasn’t allowed anywhere without a bodyguard for Gabriel’s fear that something could happen to him.

It was a valid concern. The world was a dangerous place and she was living proof it was - though due to her own choices. She decided to go to Tibet in search of more of those Miraculous that went missing. After she stumbled upon the Peacock Miraculous and was its wielder, she was convinced that she was the right holder to help Mr. Fu find them.

She was wrong. 

Part of her knew it was a misuse of her power, especially with a broken Miraculous, but she still went in search and a guardian she summoned to protect a village ended up being the source of terror that caused a mining explosion. The guardian managed to save everyone, but at cost to herself. The strain of using a broken Miraculous made hers powers volatile and she was badly injured. 

She was unconscious for days and was flown back to Paris. Gabriel didn’t leave her side while at the hospital, but when she woke, she found out the village was destroyed. She was responsible and as soon as she could walk on her own, she went to Mr. Fu and returned the Peacock Miraculous.

No more galavanting around trying to be a hero. She had a family to think about and was, if she were honest, perhaps not as suited to heroics as she wished to believe. 

That was nearly ten years ago and while she knew she made the right decision returning the Miraculous, part of her sometimes did wonder what could’ve been.

“I’m not flying to St. Barts with a bodyguard! All my friends are going and none of them have bodyguards!” 

Perhaps at times like this, she could’ve used Duusu to create a guardian to follow Adrien around in secret; not that Gabriel could ever find out. 

“Surely you two can come to a compromise,” she said as she limped out of the parlor. Adrien turned towards her, his face becoming guilt ridden. 

“ _ Maman _ , I’m sorry-”

“Look at what your yelling did,” Gabriel said in a stern voice as he marched down the stairs. Even on the days when he worked from home, he was dressed as the impeccable designer he was. Emilie inwardly sighed. She supposed that was part of why she fell in love with him. “You upset your mother.”

“I didn’t-”

“You  _ both _ upset me,” she said, ending the argument before it started. She frowned and stood up straight, leaning against her cane. “Can’t I go a day without you two arguing?”

“I’m sorry,  _ Maman _ , but Father is being unreasonable,” Adrien said, exasperated. “It’s just for five days. Not even a week!”

“Is this about Nino DJing that festival on the island?” she asked. Adrien nodded. He met his now best friend when he was dragged to one of Chloe Bourgeois’ school events. Emilie thought Nino was a good boy. He and Adrien were inseparable since they were sixteen, even though Adrien was home schooled, and even now, Nino came by often to hang out at their house knowing Gabriel’s strictness. “Surely Nino will understand if you bring a bodyguard.”

Adrien’s face fell. “He’ll understand, but it’s humiliating. I can’t go anywhere without one. I couldn’t even go to Disneyland when they were celebrating his girlfriend’s birthday without a bodyguard and everyone was so uncomfortable, I left before we even went in!” 

Emilie remembered that. Adrien returned home, red-faced and furious that he couldn’t have a ‘normal’ day out with friends. The normally understanding and complacent Adrien told his father he didn’t want a bodyguard any more. Gabriel disagreed. An argument ensued and since then, it was the same thing. Adrien wanted freedom. Gabriel was too afraid to let him have it.

“It doesn’t matter what others think,” Gabriel said, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs. “I won’t risk you getting injured while you’re away.” 

“And you are the son of one of Paris’ best designers,” Emilie said. “It is understandable to have a bodyguard. Even Chloe has one.”

“Chloe hasn’t taken boxing, fencing, and taekwondo.  _ I have _ ,” Adrien said. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

“It isn’t just about defending yourself, Adrien. What if there is an emergency, like what happened with your mother?” Her husband put an arm around her shoulders and carried a look of worry. 

Adrien tilted his head back and let out a heavy breath. “I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.” 

Emilie reached out, disappointed that they couldn’t resolve the problem, though she knew the chances were slim. “Adrien, please. Your father is just worried.”

“Being worried isn’t a reason to keep me trapped in Paris!” Adrien stormed to the door and grabbed it, pulling it wide open, as he looked back at them. Emilie gasped, seeing someone just beyond their doorstep.

“Adrien, wait-” 

“I’m going for a walk! At least I can wander the city without someone looking over my shoulder.” He turned around, about to rush out the door when his body collided with a slim figure half hidden behind a large zippered garment bag. 

Emilie grimaced as she heard a yell and the sound of fabric hitting the ground. 

“Gabriel!” She pointed her hand to the door and her husband quickly left her side to go to the aid of the fallen. 

Adrien stood stunned, halfway through the door, blinking as he looked down at the bag on the ground and a petite young woman next to it. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what was going on. When he did, he paled and stumbled back

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” 

“Adrien,” Gabriel was frowning as he collected the garment bag and offered his arm to the young woman. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” Adrien’s face began to redden as he both offered his hand and seemed unsure if he should. 

The young woman lifted her arm to bat his hand away and shook her head. She looked away from Adrien and Emilie could see blue eyes and midnight black hair put up in a neat bun. “It’s fine,” the pretty young woman said, refusing to look at him. “It was my fault.”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, are you all right?” Gabriel asked as Emilie took the garment bag from him so he could help the young woman stand. 

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, it was my fault,” Adrien said taking a step forward. The young woman turned to face him and they locked eyes. Emilie squinted as they were silent for a moment. Her son’s green eyes seemed to soften upon meeting the young woman’s blue ones and for that brief silence, Emilie could’ve sworn Adrien could see only the young woman in front of him. 

“Adrien.” Gabriel’s sharp voice cut through her son’s trance. “As I was saying, we are not through here.”

Adrien’s gentle gaze hardened as he sent his father a glare. “ _ Maman _ ,” he said, addressing her even though he wasn’t looking at her. “I’m going out.” 

She sighed. “Adrien....”

He jumped off the steps and headed to the gate. The young woman clutched the strap of her crossbody purse, taking a deep breath as she watched him leave. Her eyes didn’t move from his figure until Adrien disappeared around the street corner. Only then did she turn back to Emilie and Gabriel and lowered her eyes and cheeks hinting at a blush. “I’m sorry if I came at a bad time. I was scheduled to bring these garments for review.”

“No, no, it should be us who is apologizing to you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Our son was extremely rude. Please forgive him,” Gabriel said.

She shook her head. “It’s all right, sir. No harm done. Please look over the garments. My team is awaiting your final decisions on the patterns.”

“Of course,” Gabriel gave her a nod. “Thank you for dropping them off. I will have my assistant contact you within the week.” 

The young woman thanked them for their time and walked down the steps, likely heading for the metro station Adrien took to escape as well. 

“Honestly, that boy,” Gabriel ushered Emilie back inside and took the garment bag from her arms. “Running out like that without a care in the world....”

Normally, she would agree that their son had acted rude, which in itself was very unlike him, however, something else about the encounter caught her attention,

“Gabriel, did you see that?” Emilie said as she looked out the front door, watching the young woman leave the house grounds through the gate. 

Beside her, Gabriel nodded with a tight lipped frown. “I did,” he said. “And I’ll have a stern talk with him when he returns. He can be as upset and frustrated as he wants, but such ill manners to a stranger is uncalled for.” 

Emilie tilted her head back and released a low, heavy sigh. “I wasn’t talking about that.” 

Her husband cocked his head. “Then what were you talking about?” 

“Did you feel nothing in the air?” Emilie said, stomping her cane against the tiled floor. Gabriel continued to look lost and she wondered if he was always that dense. “The chemistry, Gabriel, the chemistry!” Marguerite, who had been waiting patiently on the steps for her mistress let out a little bark, as if in agreement.

He squinted. “Chemistry?”

She threw her hand in the air and turned around. “Come, Marguerite, we have work to do,” she said, her little dog yipping and following behind her. “Nathalie!”

“I have it on good authority that Miss Dupain-Cheng’s parents own and run a bakery on the 21st.” Her husband’s - and sometimes her - assistant seemed to emerge from the hall, tablet in hand. “I’m sure you’re familiar with Tom and Sabine’s.”

“Oh! I love their pastries!” Emilie said, looking pleased. “How often is she there?”

“As she just finished school, she still lives with her parents, according to the address in our employee records,” Nathalie said. “Shall I put in an order?”

“Yes, yes. Buy some cakes, too, Nathalie. And schedule the driver to take us this weekend.” 

“Of course.” 

Gabriel looked from one woman to the next. “What is going on?” 

Emilie looked over her shoulder with a droll expression. “ _ Cher _ , please keep up. Nathalie, explain to him.”

“Emilie and Adrien will have the driver take them to the bakery on Saturday morning to pick up pastries in hopes of seeing Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Nathalie said. 

Gabriel furrowed his brows. “Why?” 

Both women stopped to stare at him. Emilie narrowed her eyes. “How did you get us both when you are this clueless? Nathalie, you were right. We should’ve left him years ago.” 

“No! Wait! I don’t understand!” Gabriel turned red as he closed the door. 

“Sir,” Nathalie said, speaking in the capacity as their assistant. “Didn’t you see the way Adrien looked at Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

He continued to stare at them with a blank expression. “He looked startled.” 

Emilie drew her lips into a tight line. “ _ Un coupe du fondre _ , Gabriel!  _ Mon Dieu, tu es buffon _ ....” 

“If you would just tell me what you are talking about-”

“It was love at first sight, Gabriel!” Emilie sighed. “Honestly...what are we going to do with you....”

The designer stopped in the foyer, looking completely taken aback by the statement. “Love at first sight?” His son? And that up and coming designer he personally scouted right out of fashion school? He lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed it. “Interesting....”

* * *

“Is Boulangerie Martin closed?” Adrien held the door open for her as she came down the steps of the manor, to the waiting car. Marguerite followed behind her and jumped beside Adrien for pets before following Emilie into the back seat. “Today? That’s unlike them. Is everything all right?”

“ _ Monsieur _ Martin isn’t feeling well and when he’s not, his son makes the bread,” Emilie said scooting aside to give her son room. “It’s just not the same. I heard good things about this bakery on the 21st, so I had Nathalie call in an order.”

“Did you order a lot?” Adrien slipped into the seat next to her and closed the door. Marguerite settled in between them and rested her head on her lap. 

“Just some bread for the week and some petite cakes,” Emilie said.  _ Act normal, _ her mind kept chanting. She didn't make it obvious that she was trying to make another chance meeting occur. 

The car started moving forward and and she looked over at her son. Adrien was gazing out the window. 

“Father won’t let me leave without a bodyguard, will he?” he asked after a few moments. There was a hint of resignation in his voice and Emilie gave him a sad look . 

She let out a low breath. “It is my fault. Perhaps he would not worry so much if I hadn’t been in that incident years ago,” she told him. “I’m sorry, Adrien.

Her son turned to her with a look of concern and shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault. It was an accident.”

She wished she could believe that. She reached across the seat and put her hand on his. “Adrien, regardless, it is my fault that your father is terrified that something will happen to you. He loves you so much, as do I, so I can’t blame him for his worry. I wish he wouldn’t worry so much, but he is how he is.”

Adrien lowered his eyes, despondent. “I know...”

“I know it’s bothersome to go everywhere with a bodyguard, but it isn’t as if they have to stick to you the entire time. He just has to know where you are and how to get to you quickly if there is an emergency,” she said. 

“Still...I wish I didn’t need to bring one.”

“I wish you didn’t either,” Emilie said. “But please consider your father’s feelings.”

Adrien seemed to mull over it for a moment. He took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, tilting his head back. “I’ll bring one, but I’m not going to promise keeping him around at all times.”

Emilie smiled and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I know you really want to go to St. Bart’s and I wouldn’t want you to miss out. Just be sure to call every now and then.”

He smiled back. “Of course, _ Maman _ .” 

Once more, Emilie counted herself lucky to have such a good son. He was always trying to be accommodating and he worked hard, even while he was in school. He had little free time, but always attended what he could and tried his best to be there for his few friends. To her knowledge, he’d never even had a girlfriend. 

“I’m going to change that....” she said to herself. 

“Did you say something, _Maman_?”  
“No! Nothing!” Emilie let out a weak laugh. “Oh, look! We’re here!” The car pulled up to the corner store and Adrien looked out the window. He seemed to narrow his eyes. 

“You ordered...from here...?” Adrien asked in a quiet voice. 

Emilie nodded. “Yes, it came highly recommended!” She looked over at him and saw his lips tighten. “Oh...have you been here before?”  
“Um...yes...Nino recommended it,” he said. “I think we had macarons from here for his girlfriend.”

Their bodyguard opened the door on Adrien’s side and he stepped out. Marguerite leapt out the door circled Adrien before letting out a little bark. Emilie looked up at the corner bakery. She could already smell the familiar scent of bread wafting out. 

“Marguerite, you wait here,” she told the dog. Marguerite let out another little bark and sat by the curb. Emilie walked forward with her cane and a large canvas bag on her other arm. Adrien opened the door for her. 

“ _ Bonjour _ !” A man’s booming voice filled the bakery and Emilie removed her sunglasses. 

“Oh!” Another voice said, this time coming from a petite Asian woman behind the counter. She smiled. “Ad-”

“ _ Bonjour _ , madame! We’re here to pick up an order for Emilie Agreste!” Adrien almost seemed to cry out. She gave her son a look. Why was he so loud all of a sudden? 

“Adrien, lower your voice....” Emilie said as she walked past him. He gave her a weak laugh, but remained behind her as she walked in. Emilie looked towards the counter and gave the woman a pleasant smile. “ _ Bonjour _ , I had my assistant call in an order for me.”

“Oh yes!” The black haired woman seemed to look from her to Adrien and back before nodding. “We have it all ready. Tom! Tom, Madame  _ Agreste _ is here to pick up her order!”

The large man behind her gasped and turned around. “I see. We were expecting her. I’ll get the order.” He rounded the bakery and the woman whom Emilie assumed was Marinette’s mother headed to the cashier. 

“Adrien, give him the bag for our things,” she said, handing her son the bag. Adrien nodded and took the bag before rushing to the large man. Emilie turned back to the woman. “I heard such good things about this bakery. I’m looking forward to the bread.”

“Oh, thank you,” the woman said. “My name is Sabine and that is my husband, Tom.” Emilie nodded, confirming their identities. “How did you find out about our bakery?”

She was expecting this question. “From some of my husband’s co-workers. I believe your daughter works for my husband?” 

“Yes, Marinette.” Sabine smiled and clasped her hands in front of her as Emilie counted her success. “She just started a few months ago.”

“From what I’ve heard, she’s doing quite well,” Emilie reached into her purse to pay. “I’ve only met her once, I’m afraid. Is she in today?” She just had to slip that into the conversation.

“Not today. She’s going to see a friend for their birthday,” Sabine said. 

Emilie tried not to let her disappointment show much more. “Oh, that’s too bad. Well, perhaps next time.” 

She handed Sabine the money just as Adrien reached her with a bag full of bread. “We’re all set, _ Maman _ .”

“Wonderful. Thank you! I’ll be sure to call in another order soon.” She gave Marinette’s parents a wave as Adrien headed to the door. Their bodyguard saw them coming and rushed to hold the door open. As Emilie walked out, she looked around. “Where’s Marguerite?”

The bodyguard looked towards the curb, where he had been standing with the dog and looked equally surprised. Emilie sighed. Just what she needed: her dog had run off. First, they missed Marinette. Now, they had to find the dog.

“Marguerite!” Adrien called out as he waited by the car door, his arms filled with bread. 

Emilie craned her neck and heard a familiar bark around the corner. She let out a sigh of relief. “She must’ve just wandered around there I’ll go get her,” she said. “Help Adrien with the bread,” she told the bodyguard as she walked past them. She saw the park across the street and hoped Marguerite wouldn’t try to run across to it. She knew she should’ve walked the dog around the block earlier to get the energy out. “Marguerite!”

Another series of barking was heard, high and energetic. 

“Okay, okay, calm down. I can’t pet you if you keep jumping,” the light voice of a woman was heard over Marguerite’s yapping and Emilie emerged on to the side street. 

“Oh! Marguerite!” Emilie gasped as she saw her dog jumping up and down at the feet of a young woman in dark jeans and a sleeveless silk blouse. The young woman looked surprised to see her rounding the corner. 

“Madame Agreste!” Marinette froze. She looked down at the dog she was trying to pet and then at the woman and seemed to make a connection. 

Emilie expertly stopped herself from screaming in excitement that she found the designer. 

“Oh my, aren’t you one of my husband’s designers?” Emilie feigned surprise of her own and lifted her hand to her lips. “What are you doing here this morning?” Silently, she praised her dog for finding the young woman. 

“My parents own this bakery, madame,” Marinette said, motioning to the building. “I was just heading out. Is this your dog?”

“Yes, that’s Marguerite,” Emilie said. “I’m sorry, she gets so excited when she meets someone new. Marguerite.” Emilie tried to coax her dog to return . “Come here. Leave the young lady alone.”

Marguerite let out a little bark and trotted over to Emilie, wagging her butt and panting as she looked up at Emilie with eyes ready for praise. 

“ _ Maman _ , did you find her?” Adrien’s voice came from around the corner and a second later he appeared. Emilie held her breath as she watched his face for a reaction to Marinette. Adrien looked, at most, mildly surprised to see another person with them and gave Marinette a small nod. “Hello...was our dog bothering you?” 

That was it? That was all? No shy blush or a hint of a smile. Just ‘was our dog bothering you’? Did she over estimate how charming she thought her son was. 

“No, she’s not bothering me at all. I was just surprised to see her,” Marinette replied. Emilie turned to her and saw Marinette looking at her watch. She must’ve been on her way to that birthday thing her mother was talking about. Emilie didn’t have much time. 

“This is Marinette,” she said. “She works for your father. Don’t you remember her?” She gave her son an expectant look. “You ran into her the other day?” 

She watched as Adrien seemed to remember and wince. “Oh....” He gave Marinette an apologetic look. “I’m very sorry about that. I was in such a rush...”

Marinette looked away, her cheeks pink as she shook her head. “No, no, it was fine. You didn’t expect me standing there and I could barely see with the garment bag....”

“Still, I’m sorry.” 

Emilie looked back at Adrien. His face had softened and he was looking directly at Marinette. Emilie couldn’t read the expression in his eyes, but for a moment, she felt as if she wasn’t supposed to be there. As if her presence was interrupting an intimate moment meant only for them. 

Marinette lifted her head and brushed some hair behind her ears. “It’s fine,” she said once more. “I’m okay....” 

Emilie felt that electricity in the air once more. Perhaps, if she was quiet, she could sneak away- 

Marguerite began to bark. She jumped up on her hind legs and patted Emilie’s legs, still waiting for the praise from earlier. A few paces away, Adrien seemed to snap out of his daze and looked at the dog. He sighed and walked over, picking up Marguerite. 

“ _ Maman _ , we’re ready to go,” Adrien said. 

“Oh, but....”

“I should go as well. I’m already late as it is,” Marinette said, giving them a sheepish smile. “It was nice seeing you again, Madame Agreste. And you.” She gave Adrien a small nod of her head before rushing off. 

Emilie let out a pained whine. So much for her plan to get the two to talk. She turned around and walked past Adrien. 

“Is everything all right?” her son asked as she passed him to get to the car. 

“You could’ve said more to her,” Emilie said. “Usually, you’re so chatty.”

“She looked like she was in a hurry.”

That was true, but still. Emilie sat in the car in silence with Marguerite draped over her thighs. She looked out the window at the passing buildings. 

Perhaps she had to change her tactic. Maybe it was too early to just throw the two together, at least in a fleeting situation. Getting to know Marinette would probably be a better plan. Then she could find out what kind of man Marinette was into and perhaps feel out if Marinette had any interest in her son. 

Emilie gave herself a small nod. All right. First, she’d do some work to try to get to know Marinette. With insight on where Marinette liked to go, what she enjoyed doing, and what kind of person she found attractive, Emilie was certain she could put together a better plan to place Adrien on Marinette’s path to kick off their romance.

* * *

She narrowed her eyes, looking blankly down at her dog as she brushed her. Her plans to get to know Marinette and subsequently introduce her to her son were not working. She’d been taking Marguerite for walks near Tom and Sabine’s in the mornings and sometimes in the early evenings, but she barely caught a glimpse of the young woman in passing.

Emilie was well aware of how busy one was when they worked in the fashion industry, but surely Marinette had to come home sometime. However, it wasn’t as if Emilie could wait outside the bakery every night until she did. Nathalie forbade her to, concerned that the police would be called for suspicious activity. 

“What’s so suspicious about me?” Emilie demanded when they were in the car. She was dressed as she always was: sleek and classic, the wife of a fashion icon. “Is it the scarf around my head?” She thought being blonde would make her stick out more and she wanted to be covert waiting. 

“That,” Nathalie said in a tired voice. “And the sunglasses.” 

“What’s wrong with my sunglasses?”  
“It’s dark outside.” 

Their stake out across the street came to an end when Gabriel called Nathalie and said he needed her to reorganize a meeting at once. Nathalie refused to leave Emilie alone to her own devices and thus she was brought home.

“I”m not going to get arrested, Nathalie! You’re overreacting!” She sulked the entire way back to the mansion. 

Adrien asked her what was wrong over dinner and she assured him she was fine, but jumped at the chance to ask if he’d like to go with her that weekend to walk Marguerite along the river. The river wasn’t too far from the bakery and she could casually steer him in that direction. 

He gave her a weak smile. “Sorry, Maman, I have plans.” 

She tried not to show her disappointment. This was proving to be much more difficult than she expected.

“You’ve been brushing Marguerite for fifteen minutes,” Gabriel said from their bed. He looked up from his tablet, across the room towards where she stood over her vanity and seat, brushing the papillion sitting on it. “Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t even realize. Her eyes went wide and she gasped. “Oh, my little  _ papillion _ , I’m sorry,” she said, putting down the dog’s brush and scratching her dog’s chin. Marguerite didn’t looked at all tired of the attention. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

Her dog let out a little sneeze and shook her head before jumping down and following Emilie to her bed. On the floor, on Emilie’s side, was a small dog bed with Marguerite’s name embroidered on the side. When Gabriel was home, she was not allowed on the bed. 

However, when Gabriel wasn’t home, the dog slept on his side. 

“You’ve been frowning all evening,” Gabriel said as he returned to his tablet. She glanced over as she lifted the covers and sat next to him. She expected him to be reading the news or a magazine article, or even reviewing some designs. She rolled her eyes when she saw him playing one of those games where he had to build and defend a castle or something. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong.”

“That is almost always a sign that something is wrong,” he said. “Is this because Nathalie wouldn’t let you linger outside that bakery?”

She gasped and lifted her hand to her chest. “She told you?”

“Of course she told me,” Gabriel said. “I asked her to make sure you don’t get carried away. You tend to get...over enthusiastic.”  
She let out an indignant gasp. “I’m not getting carried away, Gabriel!”

“I don’t mind you having an interest in her. She is a very talented designer, however, you’ve been stalking her for a week and a half,” he said in a dull voice. She looked away, a bit guilty. He sighed. “ _ Ma amour _ , if you want to talk to her so badly, why not come by the office?”

“Your office?” Her eyes widened. Why didn’t she thought of that? Where else would Marinette spend most of her day but at the atelier? “That’s perfect!” She threw her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek. He chuckled and smiled. “I know I married you for a reason! Thank you, my love! I’ll work with Nathalie to schedule it!”

Gabriel’s face heated up and he leaned towards her to try to kiss her, only to have her lean to the other side and reach for her phone charging on her nightstand. He sighed, sounding disappointed as she began texting Nathalie. Emilie paid him no mind: she had a goal. 

Of course, it took another three days for her plans to actually come to fruition. Part of it was that Nathalie informed her that at the end of the week, Adrien was going to a fitting at the atelier, meaning both he _ and _ Marinette would be in the same building. Emilie then pleaded that Marinette be present when the fitting happened and Nathalie confirmed that she had already scheduled for Marinette to work on the final alterations. 

“I love you,  _ ma chere _ ,” Emilie said. “I knew I could depend on you. Also, don’t tell Gabriel.”

The day of, Emilie could hardly contain her excitement. She was up early and couldn’t stop smiling through breakfast. Even Adrien commented that she looked happy that morning. She took Marguerite to get groomed and arrived at the office with her dog a good hour before she was scheduled to meet up with Nathalie for a ‘walk through’ that would lead to her stumbling into her son in the midst of being assisted by Marinette.

Emilie had her lines memorized. 

“Oh, Marinette, it’s wonderful to see you again! I didn’t know you’d be here today,” she would say. “You’re going to fit Adrien? Thank you for your hard work.”

Then she had some questions lined up to try to feed Adrien some information on her. What did she like to do outside of work? What kind of food did she like? Did she like travel? How does she like working at Gabriel Agreste? And then the most important information: was she seeing anyone. She wasn’t sure how she’d work that into the conversation yet, but was confident that she would when the time came.

“Emilie,” Gabriel’s voice cut through her imagination as she walked into the lobby. He was standing there, seeing off some guests. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see her and walked over. “What are you doing here?” He reached down to kiss her and, distracted, she kissed him back.

“Oh, ah...I was...um...in the area,” she said, kissing him on the cheek before he knelt down to pet Marguerite. “Before I knew it, I found myself here.” She glanced around. Part of her wanted to ask if their son had already arrived, but she hadn’t told him about the full extent of her plan. “I thought I’d come by before Nathalie took me around to see the new designs and Marinette, and...see if you’d like to have lunch?”

He looked utterly pleased at her invitation and part of her felt a bit guilty for using lunch to distract him from her master plan of getting them a daughter-in-law. “I would love to have lunch with you. I was just going to take my meal in my office, but we can go to the cafe down the street.” 

Alarms went off in her head. She made a mistake. Lunch would take at least an hour and a half and she’d miss her chance to observe Marinette before the fitting. She looked back at her eager husband and her resolve faltered. 

“That sounds wonderful,  _ mon amour _ ,” she said, smiling softly. “I will let Nathalie know.” 

She reached for her phone in her bag and quickly sent a message to Nathalie along the lines of ‘please stall them’ before taking her husband’s arm and heading out the door. 

Lunch went well and for a few minutes, she did forget about her original intent of playing cupid for her son as she lost herself in a conversation with her husband. As she was laughing over something he told her, she felt her phone vibrate against her from her purse. Without thinking, she reached back and lifted it up to glance as Gabriel reached for his wallet. 

Nathalie’s text was on the screen:  _ Where are you? The fitting is almost over. _

“I have to go!” She shot up from her seat and Gabriel looked up, stunned. 

“Emilie?” He wasn’t sure what to make of her as she slung her purse around her and grabbed Marguerite from the ground. 

“Thank you for lunch, darling, I love you!” Emilie planted a kiss on his cheek before she stuck the dog under her arm and began speed walking in the direction of the office. She cursed herself for deciding to wear heels that day, even if they were small kitten heels. She could walk faster in flats, but no.... “We need to hurry, Marguerite,” Emilie said, her walking cane hobbled beside her. 

At that moment, she didn’t care how inelegant she looked; she needed to get to the atelier. 

“Welcome back, Madame Agreste,” the young man at the front desk greeted her. 

“ _ Bonjour _ , Armand,” she replied quickly. “Have you seen Nathalie?” 

“She is in the east atelier for a fitting, madame.”

“Badge me in!” She walked over, placing Marguerite on the floor next and trusting the dog to follow behind her as she took her cane and tried to walk as gracefully as she could to one of the glass doors to the side of the lobby. 

She heard a beep as she reached it and opened the door. She could see Nathalie waiting at the side with a look of concern. She straightened up upon the sight of Emilie. 

“Is that it?” she heard her son’s voice and she paled. Oh no - she was too late!

“That’s it. We’ll have this ready for the photoshoot.” Emilie immediately recognized that voice as Marinette’s as she rounded a screen. She found her son shrugging off a sport coat while Marinette marked up a shirt. 

“Adrien!” Emilie greeted him. He looked up and a wide smile filled his face.

“ _ Maman _ , what are you doing here?” He handed the coat off to Marinette without glancing at her and Emilie couldn’t help but feel disappointed that there was no lingering touch or curious glance. 

“I was having lunch with your father and then returned to look over some designs with Nathalie,” she said. A legitimate excuse. 

“I just missed you then,” Adrien said. He knelt down and petted Marguerite. “Have you been a good girl?” The dog gave a small bark and he chuckled. 

“Is that Marinette?” Emilie decided to jump right into it while they were in the same room. 

Marinette looked up from the coat and smiled. “Hello, madame. How are you?” 

“I’m well thank you,” she said. “I didn’t know you were doing my son’s fitting.”

“Oh, Margot was assigned elsewhere today,” Marinette said as she gathered the clothes. “So I am taking her place. It’s my first time fitting him.”

_ And hopefully not her last _ , Emilie thought to herself. “And how was it? Adrien is easy to work with, no?” 

Marinette gave her a light laugh and nodded. “He is a professional that is for sure.”

“If we’re done, I’m going to head out,” Adrien said. He finished putting on his own coat and Emilie maneuvered herself between him and the door. 

“Already?” she asked, her voice higher than normal. “I was hoping you’d come with me to look at the designs.”

He gave her a pained look. “Sorry,  _ Maman _ , but I need to get some things for the trip.” 

“Oh, you’re going on a trip,” Marinette said. Emilie looked at her with joy.  _ Yes! _ This was what she wanted; a conversation! “Where are you going?” 

“St. Bart’s,” Adrien said. He looked over and Marinette and smiled. “I can’t wait.” Emilie could’ve sworn Marinette blushed at his look. 

“Do you like the tropics, Marinette?” Emilie asked. The young woman nodded. 

“I do, but I’m not used to the heat. I much rather enjoy the weather here,” she said. “Now is a good time to go out and relax with the weather as it is.” 

“I agree. The season is a nice time to go outside,” Nathalie said, drawing their surprise. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I personally enjoy walking through Montmartre on the weekends.” 

Marinette nodded. “I enjoy the Trocadero myself,” she said. “The spacious gardens and fountains always help clear my head.” 

From across the fitting area, Nathalie met Emilie’s eyes and gave her a subtle nod. That was it: that was why Nathalie had said something. To find out where Marientte liked to go. 

“The Trocadero is a wonderful area! Isn’t it, Adrien?” She looked at her son, who turned to look at her. He smiled and nodded.

“It is.” He pulled up the sleeve of his coat and glanced at his watch. “Ah, I need to go.  _ Maman _ , I’ll see you this evening.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Nathalie Thanks again, Marinette!” 

Before she could stop him, he stepped around her and rushed to the door. Emilie pursed her lips. Well, at least there was still Marinette.

“I need to go and prepare the adjustments,” she said, her arms full of clothes. “Madame, it was nice seeing you again.” 

“Ah....” She walked past Emilie and Emilie could only smile and watch her go. 

“I tried to delay them,” Nathalie said behind her. 

“It’s fine,” Emilie said. She narrowed her eyes. “At least now, we know where to look for her.” 

* * *

Things she knew Marinette liked: gelato from Andre’s, juices and smoothies, museums, and flowers. 

Emilie made a mental note that she seemed to like the colors pink and white and stopped to admire the alamy flowers. Numerous plans were coming together in her mind after a week of staking out the Trocadero under the guise of walking Marguerite. At the end, the papillon was exhausted, but it had all been worth it.

Nearly every time she came, she’d caught sight of Marinette sketching or just sitting and enjoying the scenery. Sometimes, she was sitting and enjoying gelato. 

“How about a museum date?” she had asked Nathatlie the other night after seeing Marinette walk into one of the nearby museums. 

“There are a few exhibitions opening,” Nathatlie said. “I am sure we can acquire tickets to the openings and get them into Adrien and Marinette’s hands.” 

“But there is no guarantee they’d spend the opening together,” Emilie said, rubbing her chin. 

“What if you attended and kept them in conversation?”  
“Tempting, but I promised Gabriel I would try to be subtle about this.” She let out an exasperated sigh, as if the very thought was ridiculous. “Honestly, can’t he see that this is the perfect match?” 

“I’m sure he’s given it some thought if you’ve mentioned it, but he was never very good at this sort of thing.”

“That’s true.” Emilie sighed once more. “We know what Marinette likes now, but the question still stands: is she single. I need to get to know her better before I can just ask. She hasn’t mentioned anything about it at work, has she?”

“I’ve asked around and it seems she doesn’t speak of it,” Nathatlie said. “It could be a yes or a no.”

Emilie was dramatic in laying across the sofa and falling against Nathatlie’s lap. “Why is this so hard? They are made for one another! I can taste it in the air the way I knew Gabriel was going to be the one and that you would always be at our side.” 

“I know, but I think you are right. Before we press further, we should determine if she is available.” Gabriel then arrived, looking worn, and asking why Nathalie wasn’t picking up her phone. Nathalie shrugged. “My apologies, sir,” she said, though didn’t really sound apologetic. “But we had important business.” 

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Is this about Miss Dupain-Cheng again?”

“She’s the one, Gabriel!” Emilie cried out from the sofa.

He sighed and ran his hand down his face. “At least tell me you’re being covert about it.”

“Of course I am,” Emilie said, almost insulted that he’d think otherwise. “She doesn’t suspect me at all!”

That was two days before and now, she was ducking behind a corner to avoid being seen by the young woman. 

“Marguerite,” she whispered in a low voice. “Stay on this side.” Her dog let out a little yelp and scurried to her other side while Emilie winced and held a finger to her lips, as if the dog could understand what it meant. 

After a few seconds, she stuck her compact’s mirror around the corner. Marinette was walking down the steps to the garden, but had stopped. She looked over her shoulder and furrowed her brows. Emilie held her breath. Did she see her?

She kept her eyes on the small reflection and Marinette returned to walking down the steps. Emilie released her breath. She was safe. She gave Marguerite a smug look. “And Gabriel said I was being obvious....” 

She looked towards the street and signaled to her bodyguard in the awaiting car that she was going to continue forward. She crept along the stairs, trying to stay close, but unseen until she revealed herself. 

Today was the day she was going to ‘accidentally’ run into Marinette and invite her over for dinner that weekend. Adrien was leaving for St. Bart’s the next day, so she’d have a chance to get to know Marinette. With Adrien out, it would make her ultimate goal less obvious. She’d be able to ask Marinette if she was indeed still single. 

Emilie gathered Marguerite’s leash in her hand and took a deep breath. As she emerged into the garden, she caught sight of Marinette reaching into her purse to take out her phone. Emilie stopped at once and pulled back, keeping Marguerite from walking into Marinette’s direct line of sight. 

They ducked back behind the stairs.

Marienette stopped and took a seat on the bench, her face softening as she looked at the screen and slipped a small white earbud into her ear. 

“ _ Bonsoir _ ,” she said with an amused expression. “Are you getting ready?” There was a pause as whoever she was talking to the phone answered. Emilie sat on the last step, hidden by a low wall and listened. “I’m flying out in the morning.”

She tensed. Marinette was leaving? 

“No, I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been very busy lately,” Marinette said. “Yes...no...well...there is something.” Emilie leaned closer. “I keep getting this feeling that I’m being watched.” 

Emilie’s hand slapped over her mouth.  _ Oh no _ .

“I’m sure it’s just in my head. Okay...okay...Can we talk about it this weekend?” Marinette asked, sounding tired. “I’m looking forward to it, too. I haven’t had a chance to be with you in so long...I miss you.” 

Emilie’s heart sank. 

Marinette’s voice was unmistakably affectionate and she could only draw a single conclusion. Still, Emilie shook her head. She  _ was _ sitting a bit aways, perhaps she had misheard? There was always a chance that Marinette was talking to a friend or a family member. 

“I can’t wait to see you, either.” There was an ache in Marinette’s voice and Emilie wished she hadn’t heard it.  _ “I love you, too _ .” 

Disappointment filled Emilie. That was it. That was the confirmation she needed, but didn’t want. Marinette’s tone, her words, and the _ longing _ on her face as she looked at whoever it was on the other end of her phone screamed woman in love. 

And Emilie’s dreams of a designer daughter-in-law fizzled away. 

She didn’t pay attention to the rest of Marinette’s conversation as she stood up and turned around. Marguerite whimpered, tugging against her leash to go back to the gardens to where Marinette was, but Emilie shook her head. Her dog seemed to whimper, but follow behind her as they trudged back up the stairs to the street. 

When she got home, Adrien was rushing down the stairs. “ _ Maman _ , welcome back!”

She looked up and gave him a sad look. She had failed to bring her precious son happiness. “Oh.. _ .mon fils _ ....” Emilie walked across the foyer and reached for him. He looked confused as she brought him against him in a warm, tight embrace.

“ _ Maman _ ?” He put his arm around her and gave her a hug in return. “Is something wrong? Is this about St. Bart’s? I’m only going to be gone a few days.” 

“No, no,” she said, stepping back. She lifted her free hand and cupped his face. She studied her handsome son and couldn’t help but feel even more disappointed. She was so certain that Marinette had been struck by that face. Had she misread the situation? 

Perhaps Marinette had only been admiring him. He was, after all, a model. Her son had many admirers. 

She crinkled her eyes. But she had been  _ so sure. _

Even if he had many admirers, Adrien never looked at any of them. He was always professional and cordial. It was only in that instance with Marinette where she had seen him dumbstruck. 

And just her luck, Marinette had someone else. 

Emilie let out a low breath and walked around him. “Such a shame....” 

“ _ Maman _ ?” Adrien watched as she headed up the stairs, slowly. He looked down at Marguerite and gave her a questioning look. “What happened?” 

The dog let out a sad whimper and followed Emilie up the stairs. He watched them disappear around the corner and he sighed, reaching back to his pocket as his phone began to vibrate. 

He pulled it out and looked at the picture of the pretty blue-eyed woman on the screen, eating a shared gelato with her face smushed next to his. The Trocadero was behind them. He smiled at her contact photo and as soon as he saw it, he slid his finger across the screen.

“Calling so soon? I know you said you missed me, but it’s only been a few minutes.” 

He heard her melodious giggle on the other line. “I just wanted to remind you because you always forget,” the young blue-eyed woman said. “Don’t forget to pack your sunblock. You have that shoot when you get back and I didn’t spend all of today altering your garments just for the shoot to be postponed because you got a sunburn.”

“I know, it’s already in my bag,” he said. “Anything else?” 

“No...oh, I did see your mom earlier.”

Adrien drew his head back. “You did?” He glanced towards the top of the stairs where his mother disappeared. “Where?”

“At the Trocadero,” she said. She seemed to hesitate. "I know it sounds crazy, but...I keep seeing her.” 

* * *

**A Quick Epilogue**

“Isn’t it time you’ve stopped sulking?” Gabriel asked as he sat across from her, having afternoon coffee in the parlor. “It certainly isn’t the end of the world.” 

Emilie shot him a small glare and lowered the cup from her lips. “I can’t help but be disappointed, though.”

“It’s a boyfriend,” Gabriel said, looking down at his book. “She’s not married, yet.” 

He’d been telling her that since she got home several days ago, as if to make her feel better. He argued that Marinette was still young and relationships at that age didn’t always work out.

She scowled. “ _ Ours  _ worked out!”

He froze for a moment and looked away, clearly having forgotten that fact. “Yes,...but... that doesn’t mean it will work out for her.” 

“I’m sure we can monitor her relationship,” Nathalie said from where she was seated at a small desk across the room, going through a laptop. “If by chance she is single again, you can push Adrien in her direction.”

“But when will that be?” Emilie sighed. “And it’s not as if I want the poor thing to go through a break up just so she’d look at Adrien. Although, he’d be a much better catch, in my opinion.”

“Of course he is, in your opinion. He’s your son.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t like the match,” Emilie said in a demanding voice. “That it would be a bad one?”

“I didn’t say that,” Gabriel replied, stern, lowering his book once more. “If you must know, I happen to think it would be a good one. However, as disappointing as this turn of events is, it isn’t the end of the world.”

“I know,” Emilie muttered to herself. She took another drink of her coffee and reached for a small pastry on a tray on the table in front of her. “At the very least, Adrien never found out.” 

“ _ Maman _ ?” She lifted her head as she finished eating a small pastry. She heard Adrien’s voice from out in the hall. He’d arrived back from St. Bart’s the night before and she decided not to bother him and allow him to sleep in after such a long flight. It looked like he was up now.

“She’s in the parlor with us,” Gabriel’s voice projected across the room and a few moments later, Adrien looked inside. 

He seemed relieved to see them and sighed.

“Good day, my dear,” Emilie said, motioning to the tray in front of her. “Care to join us?” 

Adrien walked in and glanced around at the three of them before shaking his head. He seemed tense and nervous, wringing his hands at his sides as he took a seat next to her. “No, it’s fine. I’m not hungry.” 

“Are you sure?” She pushed the tray in his direction. “You’ve been sleeping all day.” 

Adrien ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll just get right to it.” He sat up straight and looked at her. “ _ Maman _ , this has to stop.” 

“Stop? Stop what?” 

“You k _ now  _ what,  _ Maman _ .”  _ _

_ What was he...oh no. _ Emilie glanced away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ _ Maman _ .” Adrien let out a heavy breath. “I know you’ve been trying to set me up with Marinette.”

Gabriel slapped his book down over his thigh and looked at her. “I told you he’d find out, Emilie!” 

_ Traitor! _ “Gabriel!”

“I told you not to keep pushing him-”

“You said you didn’t mind!”

“I said-”

“ _ Maman _ , Father.” Adrien lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, tired. “Can we just stop? I know that you...all of you.” He made a point to look over his shoulder, to where Nathalie had looked up. She jerked her head back every so slightly. “Have been trying to set us up and I want you to stop.”

“Adrien...” Emilie’s face fell. “Darling, I didn’t mean to push. It’s just that....”

“You make such an excellent couple,” Gabriel said, as if it were obvious. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t find the match favorable. She’s a gifted designer. You’re a model.”

“Father-”

“If I take her under my wing and you marry-”

“Father!”

“Oh, Gabriel, it’s a bit early, don’t you think?” Emilie said with a small, surprised gasp. She didn’t know he was thinking that far ahead. 

“It’s good to plan these things, Emilie.” 

“Father!” Adrien shot up from his seat. “I want you to stop because it’s not necessary!” Both she and Gabriel looked up at him, surprised at his outburst. Adrien rubbed his arm and looked away. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Emilie was taken aback. She looked to Gabriel to see a similar expression before he lowered his head and gave their son a small nod. 

“I understand, son,” he said in an understanding voice. “I want to assure you that we will love you no matter who you love.” Emilie gasped once more and then nodded in agreement.

Adrien looked relieved. “Really?”

Emilie nodded again. “Of course, darling. Why wouldn’t we?” How could her son think otherwise. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a woman or man, as long as you’re happy.”

Adrien stared at them, his eyes slowly crinkling up. “I don’t think you understand....”

“Now, you said Nino has a girlfriend, so is it Luka?” Emilie asked, clasping her hands together. 

Gabriel curled his lip in distaste. “That blue-haired guitarist from that scream band?”

“It’s a rock band-” Adrien said, only to be cut off. 

“Whatever it is, I don’t care for it.” Gabriel frowned. 

“Gabriel.” Emilie put her hand on his arm. “ _ Cher _ , you may not care for his music, but I recall Luka is a wonderful young man.”

Adrien ran a hand down his face again. “Luka is just a friend.”

“Oh, you haven’t told him, yet?” Emilie asked. “I’m sure no matter what, it will be taken well.” She looked at Gabriel with reassurance. “He was always a good-natured young man. And quite handsome, too.”

“ _ Maman _ !” Adrien almost cried out. The doorbell rang and he looked towards the parlor door. Nathalie took out her phone to check the security camera. 

“Can I help you?”

“Hello. It’s me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Adrien is expecting me.” 

Several pairs of eyes shot back to the young man as he drew his lips inwards. He closed his eyes and gave Nathalie a small nod. She pressed a button on her phone. “One moment.” 

“Son, what is the meaning of this?” Gabriel said as Nathalie slipped out to get the door.

“You’re not going to tell her what we’ve been doing, are you?” Emilie asked, cupping the sides of her face as she reddened. “It’s so humiliating!”

“ _ Maman _ ....”

“Adrien,” Marinette’s voice came from the parlor door and he turned towards her, an unreadable expression on his face. Marinette stopped a few steps from the door, looking unsure if she should continue in. She looked from them to Adrien and back. “Did I come too early?”

“No, no,” Adrien said, rounding the sofa to get to her. “You’re on time. I’m the one lagging.” 

“Then did you tell them?” Marinette looked worried as Adrien took her hand and brought it to his lips. He drew her close and led her to the sofa. 

“Not yet.”

“Tell us what?” Gabriel sounded demanding and Emilie pinched his arm. He hissed and rubbed it as he gave her a questioning look. 

“Like I was saying, I don’t think you understand,” Adrien said. Emilie was staring at his hand holding Marinette’s. She narrowed her eyes. Marinette had gotten a bit of a tan.... “ _ Maman, _ Father...Nathalie. Marinette and I have been going out since she graduated lycee.” Marinette seemed to steel herself for their reaction and Emilie dropped her jaw. That would mean they were seeing each other for...four years?

Emilie stared at her son and Marinette for a few moments. Her eyes went wide. Did that mean that the person Marinette was talking to on the phone the other day at the Trocadero was Adrien? It suddenly made sense; not having been able to spend much time with each other...both had been exceptionally busy. No wonder her son was so determined to go to St. Barts, even if he had to bring a bodyguard. 

Her eyes were back on their connected hands. 

Gabriel was staring at them, as if unsure he heard correctly. “I’m sorry, come again?”

“I met Marinette around the same time I met Nino. In fact, Nino’s girlfriend’s best friend is Marinette. I’ve been seeing Marinette for four years now.” Adrien let out heavy breath. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” 

Emilie lifted her hand to her chest. “But...I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“It’s my fault, madame,” Marinette lowered her head and scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I wanted to get into the industry on my own and was worried that Adrien could be used as a basis for my career rather than my own skills, so he agreed to keep it a secret.”

“At least from anyone who might be in fashion,” Adrien said. He looked at Marinette with a fond expression and squeezed her hand. “She’s really talented. I didn’t want her to ever question that she got her job because of me and not because of her abilities.” 

“Now that I have a job and am a bit settled, we started discussing telling you,” Marinette said. She furrowed her brows. “Then we started noticing  _ Madame  _ Agreste...following me?” 

Emilie shifted awkwardly in her seat as Gabriel turned to give her a deadpan look. “You were being covert, you said.”

“I may not have been as covert as I thought....”

“I was talking with Adrien while we were in St. Bart’s,” Marinette said. “And kind of put it together that you were trying to...you know....”

Emilie clasped her hands together. “I’m sorry, Marinette! I know I wasn’t the most discrete and I didn’t mean to pressure you, but the day you came to deliver the garment and Adrien ran into you....” She let out a low breath. “I thought my son was in love.” 

Marinette’s face turned pink and Adrien glanced away, also blushing. “That’s because I am...,” he said in a shy voice. He collected himself and looked back at Emilie. “I didn’t know she was coming and I was surprised to see her. I mean...how else would I look at my girlfriend?” 

“I...I....” Emilie couldn’t find the words to put her thoughts in order. On one hand, she was stunned to know that this had been going on for years and was pleased. On the other...what did she waste several weeks doing? She wrinkled her nose. 

“Adrien Agreste, do you know what your mother went through these last few weeks trying to find out more about your girlfriend so that she could bring you two together?” Gabriel said. Emilie shot him a horrified look. Did he  _ have _ to tell them? “She was devastated when she thought she wasn’t single and now comes to find that she’s not single because of you!”

“I know, I should’ve told you all sooner....” Adrien trailed off. He looked at his mother and gave her a suspicious look. “How did you know she wasn’t single?”  
“That’s not important!” Emilie said, taking another sip of her coffee. “The point is that now we know and I’m happy to have gained a wonderful daughter-in-law. Welcome to the family, Marinette.” 

Marinette smiled weakly. “Ah thank you, but...we’re not married.”

Emilie gave her a knowing wink and grinned. “Sure, you’re not....” She lifted her cup once more, making sure her ring finger was visible. “Yet.” She lifted her other hand to brush against her wedding band in a subtle manner. 

She watched Adrien’s face turn red as Marinette’s eyes darted to her left hand clasped in Adrien’s. It was faint, but it was clear. On her ring finger there was a strip of pale skin that hadn’t gotten as dark as the rest of her hand. Her cheeks flushed with pink.

Gabriel looked at his wife. “Now, Emilie...let them go at this at their own pace.” He gave Adrien and Marinette a nod. “Though it was late, thank you for telling us.”

Adrien swallowed and stood up. “We were going to go get a late lunch, so....” 

“I understand. Please, go and enjoy,” Gabriel said, standing up to see them out. He looked towards Marinette. “Although, do join us for dinner tonight. We’d love to get to know more about you.” 

Marinette smiled. “Of course, sir, I’d love to.” 

“Please, call me Gabriel,” he said, as they left. Marinette thanked them again and left with Adrien. Gabriel’s calm expression left his face as he turned to his wife. “Did you see her hand?”

“Of course I saw her hand,” Emilie said. “I’m not blind, Gabriel. I know what I saw.” Her husband nodded and began to gather his things. 

“I’m going to my study,” he said. “I’ll see you all at dinner.”  
Emilie furrowed her brow. “And where are you going?”

“To work,  _ Ma amour _ ,” Gabriel said, a look of determination on his face. 

“Right now?”

“Right now.” He swept past her and gave her a kiss on the lips as he passed. Marguerite let out a little bark and hopped off her seat, following Gabriel energetically. “Our clothes for the wedding aren’t going to design themselves.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next week is another Lukanette. :) Or Viperionette? It's the one where he's Viperion, but she's still Marinette.


	3. Reach (LadyNoir/Adrienette) - February 14, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Reaching” - Ladynoir/Adrienette 
> 
> Paris is safe, except from the rivalry of its two superhero guardians: Ladybug and Chat Noir. Since they were teenagers, the two have raced around Paris, trying to out do-good each other. 
> 
> After Chat Noir saves a bus of people from falling into the Seine before Ladybug can even get there, Adrien is in high spirits. He helps a young woman reach some chips high on a shelf, kicking off a friendly conversation that ends with a coffee date. 
> 
> It’s a terrible day for Marinette. First she had a hectic day at work, then Chat Noir gets all the praise for saving a bus of people, and then she nearly topples over trying to reach some chips. At the very least, a nice guy helps her and asks her to coffee. Surely, things will get better, right?

The crowd was cheering and it took everything in Ladybug not to glare at the black clad superhero standing on top of the bus, which was on its side and slid up against the railing between the street and the Seine. Chat Noir lifted his hand and flashed the adoring people his winning smile as he waved. 

How could he look so pleased? 

“Thank you, Chat Noir!” someone in the crowd yelled.

“No problem!” Did that idiot just wink at them? “All in a day’s work!” 

She stood across the street, seething atop a building. All in a day’s work? She was the one who kept the bus from falling into the river and held it up with her yoyo so he could get the people out! He dared to take credit for it all? He wouldn’t even acknowledge her when she was right there? 

“That is it....” She grabbed her yoyo, which she had tied secured against the building and gave it a tug. The thin, nearly invisible wire returned back to her and a low, creaking was heard from the river. 

She smirked and the bus began to tip into the river and Chat Noir struggled to keep his balance. She took some pleasure watching his arms flail for a moment before he leapt off the vehicle. 

People began to scramble away, as if the bus would take them with it when it fell it a watery grave. Ladybug sighed. They really should’ve known better after nearly ten years having not just Chat Noir, but her - a superhero that actually dealt with collateral damage, taking care of the city. She wasn’t just going to let a bus fall into the river, even if it was empty.

She tossed her yoyo up. “Lucky Charm!” 

The flurry of red and pink light swept over the scene, turning the bus upright, straightening the broken railing, and making it seem as if the accident never happened at all. The familiar red and pink attracted the attention of the bystanders below and they turned to follow the light. 

“It’s Ladybug!” someone shouted. There were a few gasps of surprise and she gave them a quick wave before swinging her yoyo and pulling herself away from the situation. 

It wasn’t that she expected cheers, as Chat Noir did. If she was the one pulling out people from a bus, then of course, she’d get the cheers. It’s just that the people of Paris, as well as she, knew that whenever she and Chat Noir were in the same vicinity....

“So you just  _ had _ to show up and make everything all better, as usual, huh? Always gotta be the hero, don’t you?” 

That cocky, infuriating voice reached her ears as she landed on another rooftop. 

_ Don’t turn around. Just ignore him,  _ she told herself. She lifted her hand and threw her yoyo into the air, only to have the idiot cat catch it before it could fly out and wrap around something else. 

“You’re not even going to answer me,  _ my lady _ ?” he asked, stressing his weird nickname for her with the same mocking tone he always did. 

“I’m busy,” Ladybug said as she pulled and snatched the yoyo back. “You did your job. I did mine. Leave me alone.”

She took a step forward and heard him scoff behind her. “You’re too busy to help the people on the bus, but not busy to try to steal the credit, huh?”

She ground her teeth together and whirled around to face him. “I was halfway across the city when I heard and I came as soon as I did. You’re lucky I got here when I did.”

His eyes widened and he looked affronted. “I’m lucky? Lucky for what? Running into you again?”

“Who do you think was keeping that bus from falling into the river while you were getting everyone out?” Ladybug said, keeping her voice sharp. Honestly, what was it about this man that angered her so? “If it weren’t for me, you’d be swimming around in the river like a drowning cat!” 

His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. “I didn’t ask for your help-”

“And I didn’t want to help _ you _ ,” Ladybug said. She swung her yoyo upwards once more and felt it grab on to another building. “I came to help the people. If you weren’t getting them out, I would’ve!”

“But you didn’t-”

“Only because you got there first!” Ladybug took a step back and sent him a scathing glare. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m out.” She tugged on her yoyo and allowed it to pull herself upwards and fling her across to another building. 

She must’ve gone half way across Paris before she relaxed enough to stop and slip into a secluded alleyway to de-transform. She leaned against the side of a building and let out a heavy sigh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. 

“Must you argue every time you meet?” Tikki asked as she floated around her. “I’ve never seen a Chat Noir and Ladybug at each other’s throats as much as you two.”

“You should ask him or his kwami that,” Marinette said, trying to hold back her clipped voice. It wasn’t Tikki’s fault she was so agitated. This was all Chat Noir’s fault. 

She was the first superhero in Paris, having received the Miraculous earrings and Tikki when she was just a teenager. She was doing her best to protect the city from some madman. Marinette thought she was doing a decent job. 

Then,  _ he _ showed up. 

The blond flirty guy in a catsuit, of all things. She was able to stop part of a construction crane from falling into the street. Just as she was about to tie it in place to secure it and then save a young man who’d fallen on his bicycle and was injured below, a skinny black blur shot down and swept him out of harms way.

At the time, she was relieved. The people came first, of course. Maybe he was there to help her.

“Hey, Ladybug! You have to watch out! Someone could’ve gotten hurt down here!” He spoke as if he were scolding her for being ignorant. “Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got you!” 

Chat Noir introduced himself and was showered with praise for saving a single man. In a second and with that cocky smile of his, all her efforts to keep the crane from cashing into the street and injuring, if not killing, the people below was forgotten. 

It was Chat Noir who was the hero because he was recklessly saving people. Didn’t he understand that if  _ they _ got hurt, they  _ couldn’t  _ save anyone. Assessing the situation and then acting accordingly to create as little collateral damage while still keeping them as safe as possible was a priority. Reckless abandon didn’t always work out and made a situation far more dangerous. 

However, Chat Noir threw himself into heroics with said reckless abandon and because of it, he was seen as the hero of the people. 

Sure, she was still praised for her own heroics, but if Chat Noir was there, he’d suddenly become the star and she was relegated to doing all the dirty, difficult work while he saved men, women, and children directly. 

“Nevermind, let’s just go to the grocery store,” Marinette said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She could feel a slight headache coming. Tikki shot into her purse and they headed out of the alley. 

If she were being honest, Marinette knew that part of her was envious of the positive attention he was getting. However, it wasn’t just that. He seemed to revel in the attention and did he ever acknowledge her or her help? Nope. Sometimes, he’d even throw her one of those ‘look at how much I’m loved’ smirks that she wanted to slap off his face.

She got to a site first, he’d show up and take all the glory, even if she had done the most work. If she got to a site last, like today, she’d be forgotten completely. Did the people think he magically held up that bus with his mind? 

Marinette took another deep breath. It was fine. What mattered was the people. That’s why she accepted the role. That’s why she kept doing it. Not for the attention or the glory, but to save the people of her city. That was her duty.

She walked into a small grocery store and tried to calm herself as she picked up a basket by the door. It had been a long day. She’d just get the snacks she wanted and then go home and unwind. 

She walked down a familiar aisle to get her favorite chips; a guilty pleasure. She reached up to pluck one off the shelf and froze. The space it always was in was empty. Marinette’s eyes darted around. Maybe it had been moved elsewhere? That happened sometimes when new products were added. 

The shelves around it still had some chips, but not the flavor she wanted. It didn’t look like they had moved. She lifted her head upwards. There was another row above that were marked as having larger bags of the chips, however from her angle, she couldn’t see all the way to the back of the topshelf. This was a struggle of being short. 

She took a step back and glanced around the aisle to make sure no one was looking.

Marinette began to jump, hoping no one would turn into the aisle and see a petite young woman in kitten heels, slacks, and a sleeveless blouse trying to peer over a shelf while balancing her grocery basket. She caught a glimpse of a single bag pushed towards the back of the shelf and let out a relieved sigh.

At last! Something good after such a day. 

She stopped and drew her lips inward. Now, the hard part was to find some way to get it down. The thought of trying to find someone to help her crossed her mind, but maybe she could bat it down with another bag of chips? Sometimes that worked. She put her basket on the ground and managed to grab on to a bag closer to her with her fingertips.

Before she could swing it upwards in a blind attempt to knock the chips she wanted closer, she saw a pale hand reach up and over the top shelf. The crinkling of the paper was heard as her chips were lifted off the shelf and brought down.

A man’s voice spoke behind her. “Is this the one you wanted?” 

She felt her face heat up as embarrassment swept through her. Marinette swallowed hard and kept her eyes down as she silently put back the bag of chips she was going to use.

“Um...yes,” she said, inwardly wincing. She was sure no one was in the aisle with her. How could she not notice someone walk in? She lifted her head, telling herself she was being rude. “Thank you....” She trailed off and almost groaned out loud. Of course, it wasn’t just _ any _ random good citizen helping her.

She recognized his face instantly. It wasn’t as prevalent as when they were younger, but at one point, his face was plastered across Paris. Tall, blond and green-eyed, with a handsome face and fit body more than suitable to be a model even though she heard he was currently finishing some graduate studies. French history or law or something. 

What a man like Adrien Agreste was doing at her neighborhood grocery store buying.... She glanced at his own basket and nearly balked. It was loaded with junk food and camembert cheese. 

He was looking at her and holding a bag of chips between them, as if presenting them to her. “There’s another one behind it,” he said, looking over the top of her head. “Do you want that one, too?”

His voice snapped her out of her surprise and she blinked. She shook her head and reached for the chips he was holding out for her. “No, no, I just wanted one. Thank you.” 

“No problem,” he said. He stepped to the side and gave her a smile. “I saw you trying to reach it.”

She put the chips in her basket and tried to fight down her humiliated blush. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that?”

He chuckled. “Sure, but if you need to reach anything else, let me know.” She raised a brow and a light blush reached his cheeks.  “Wait, that sounded weird,” he said. His voice had a slight nervous laugh and Marinette had to admit: he was far cuter in person. “I meant is there anything else I can maybe reach for you?” 

She looked down at her basket. “I don’t think so. Thank you for the offer, though.” 

“No problem,” he said. He took a step back and glanced around. “Sorry to bother you, but I don’t go to this store often. Do you know where I can find the bread?”

Marinette tilted her head to the side. Perhaps he was new to the neighborhood. “It should be down that way. I’m afraid I never buy bread here.”

He drew his head back. “Is the bread here not good?” He looked concerned, as if she were about to tell him there were some health code violations. 

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s just that my parents own a bakery near-by, so I just go there whenever I need bread.”

“Oh, I see.” He looked down at his basket. “I was hoping to get all my shopping done here.” 

“You still can,” she said. She walked down the aisle and motioned for him to follow her. She peered around the aisle and pointed. “They have some baguettes, but it’s kind of limited.”

“Croissants?” Adrien headed towards the direction she pointed. She found herself following him. Adrien stood over a small, empty display and wrinkled his nose. Marinette smiled a bit. She supposed even a model was still a normal guy living his life. “Looks like I’m too late.”

“It  _ is _ evening,” Marinette said. He looked disappointed and she began to feel bad for him. She reached into her purse for her phone and scrolled through. “Hi Mama,” she said as her mother answered the bakery’s line. Adrien looked over at her, curious. “Do you have any croissants left?” She gave Adrien a small smile. “She’s checking,” she said in a soft voice. Adrien began to smile. Marinette looked away. Cute when he smiled, too, it seemed. “Okay...okay...hold on a second.” She lowered her phone and opened her mouth to tell him how many were left.

“If they have any, I’ll take them,” Adrien said before she could speak. His eyes seemed to light up. “I haven’t had any in a while; I’ll buy them all.” 

Marinette raised her phone once more. “Mom, can you save them. Someone’s going to come by. No, not dozen-”

“I’ll take all dozen!”

Marinette held back a giggle. “Nevermind, he’ll take them all. Okay...five, ten minutes? Okay.” She glanced at Adrien and turned away. She lowered her voice. “Love you, too, Mama.” She hung up and turned back to him. 

“Thank you so much,” Adrien said, smiling widely. “I haven’t had a proper croissant in weeks and I’ve been craving them.”

“It’s no problem. I’ve been there,” Marinette said. 

He adjusted his basket on one arm and extended his other to her. “My name is Adrien, by the way.”

“Oh, I know!” She blurted it out and felt her cheeks heat up at his surprised look. She lifted her hand to take his and gave it a feeble shake. “I mean...yes, I know. I work at your father’s company and your face is....” 

“Ah....” Adrien continued to shake her hand, but looked away, sheepish. “Yeah, it’s on a mural in the front lobby. I keep asking him to change it, but he’s stubborn.” 

“It’s a nice mural, though.” He cringed. 

“Still kind of weird to walk in and see my giant face. Anyway, what was your name?” 

“Marinette,” she said. “When you get to the bakery, tell them that you’re there about the croissants I called about.” 

“Marinette....” Her name rolled out of his mouth and another, unexpected, flush of heat swept through her. His eyes crinkled up as he smiled. It was a punch in the heart. How did her intimidating boss have such a friendly, hot son? “Thank you.”

Silence drifted between them as their handshake came to a slow stop. He didn’t let go and Marinette wasn’t sure if she was supposed to pull her hand back first. 

“Um...do you need me to walk you over to the bakery?” she asked. 

“Hmm? Oh!” Adrien looked down and noticed their hands still joined. He pulled his away and scratched the side of his head. “Sorry. And, no, if you can just point me in the direction and tell me the name, I can find it.”

She clasped her hands on the basket’s handle. “Tom and Sabine. I can show you which direction.” He gave her a nod and followed her to check out. “You really like cheese....” she said as he paid in the self-serve machine next to her. 

She could’ve sworn he winced. “Yeah,” he said. “This brand is delicious.” 

She waited until he bagged the last of his junk food and cheese and walked outside with him. She pointed down the street. “It’s about two blocks that way.”

“Thanks again, Marinette.”

“No problem. You helped me get my chips, after all.”

He laughed along with her giggle. Great, he had a nice laugh, too. “It was nothing,” he said. He tilted his head as they stood on the sidewalk. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he took a deep breath. “Marinette, would you like to have coffee with me sometime?”

She supposed the look of shock on her face was apparent when he tried to give her a reassuring smile. 

“You can say no,” he said, lifting a hand. “I know it must be strange being asked-”

“No! No, not at all!” Her voice was loud enough that the people walking into the store looked their way. Her face must’ve been red. She didn’t get asked out often. Wait...he was asking her out, right? 

She looked back at him and he looked disappointed. “Right,” he said. “Sorry if I was too forward-”

“You weren’t! That’s not what I meant!” She clamped her hand over her mouth. Why was she so loud? She swallowed hard and gripped her grocery bag. “I mean that it’s not strange. And I’d love to get coffee with you some time, Adrien.”

His expression softened and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. “Great....” He paused and straightened up. “Just to be clear, you don’t need to force yourself. If you work for my father-”

“I’m not forcing myself,” Marinette said. “Um...I may need help reaching things on shelves again, so...it would be nice to get to know you?” 

Adrien relaxed once more and nodded. “Should I call you, then?” 

Her heart slammed against her chest. This was really happening.... She smiled and reached for her phone with excited, trembling hands. “Sure!”

* * *

“You can’t stop a train Are you crazy?” 

“We don’t have time to switch tracks! You got any better ideas,  _ my lady _ ?” How he could sound both frantic and snide while they were standing atop a speeding train with brakes that gave out was a mystery she could deal with later.

Right now, they had to slow down the train before it reached Gare du Nord and slammed into any awaiting trains and the platforms. 

She was wracking her mind. Anything had to be better than his ridiculous idea of trying to get to the front of the train and using his body to try to push it to slow it down. Their suits gave them heightened strength, but not enough to slow down a train nearly 160 kilometers per hour. 

He wouldn’t survive being run over by it, either, when he was ultimately sucked beneath when his idea spectacularly failed. 

“Well?” He demanded, standing across from her. She grit her teeth.

“Give me a moment!”

“We don’t have time, we’re already in the city!” Chat Noir extended his hand and she watched his baton extend. “I’m going to the front!”

“No!” She didn’t think. She threw her yoyo out and wrapped it around him pulling it back. A look of surprise was all over his face as he stumbled back and landed on his butt. She’d never done such a thing to him before. Ladybug pulled him back. “You’re not going to just throw your life away!”

“I can save the people!” he said, twisting his body as he fought against her string. He seemed confused as to why they were so strong. They held up buses and buildings, why was he so surprised that they could hold him in. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed for nothing,” Ladybug said as she stood beside him and peered down the tracks ahead of them. She glanced around; if she could get far enough ahead, she could perhaps set up a net to try to catch or at least slow down the train. But if it was going too fast, even her string wouldn’t hold up. She needed to slow it down. Her eyes went wide. “Get to the front and destroy the engine.”

“What?” Chat Noir gave her a look of confusion as she recoiled the string tying him up. He frowned. “That won’t stop the train in time.”

“But it will slow it down,” Ladybug said. She grabbed his arm and pulled him up. 

He pulled his arm away and shot her glare. “I don’t need to listen to you-”

“There are people on this train who will die, Chat!” she said readying her string. “You can’t do this alone and neither can I, so just shut up for once and do what I say!” 

He opened his mouth as she began to run to the front of the train. “Hey! Don’t just run away when I’m talking to you!” 

“Destroy the engine and I’ll set up barriers to slow it down before you reach the station,” she said. “I’ll make sure the station is cleared, so just do it!” She swung her yoyo upwards and on to one of the passing light poles. 

“Wait!”

“I’m trusting you!” It was her last cry for help, though she wasn’t entirely sure she could. What other choice did she have? She began to fling herself forward to try to beat the train. Part of her told her she needed to destroy the engine herself, but that wouldn’t give her enough time to clear and prepare the station. 

Without something else to slow it down, it would still crash into the platforms. It needed to be stopped. She looked over her shoulder. The train was still fast approaching and she began to throw her yoyo around the passing poles, creating spider web-like nets of varying tension for the train to rip through. 

If her calculations were right, each net would slow it down a bit. She heard a snap and looked back over her shoulder. 

The train tore right through her first one. She continued making the nets as fast as she could, strengthening their tension ever so slightly with each other. She could hear the snapping behind her as the train hit one after the other. 

“Come on...,” she said in a low voice. “Slow down...!”

The station was coming up. Her heart was racing. She only had so many light poles to use. 

“Everyone clear the way!” She landed on the platform and began yelling. Officers on the platforms began to usher people away as she continued throwing her yoyo across the station, making numerous crisscrosses of string to try to keep the train from colliding with one still on the tracks. 

She turned back to the train. It had slowed down. 

“But not enough....” Ladybug clenched her yoyo and threw it into the air. “Lucky charm!” The burst of red and pink swirled above her as an anchor landed in her arms. She crinkled her eyes. “Don’t need to think much about this.” 

She wrapped the thick chain around her arm and heaved the anchor over her shoulder. She began running up the tracks, towards the train. It snapped through another of her nets as she slid through the space beneath one. 

Her legs began to burn as she quickened her speed. There was a tightness in her chest. She could see Chat Noir’s wide-eyed, if almost fearful expression, through the window of the engine. 

She narrowed her eyes; a sudden feeling of competition rising through her as she saw his face. She wasn’t going to die so easily. She jumped over the last net just as the train hit it. The snapping of the wires was heard behind her as she landed atop of the train and continued to run towards the back. 

She threw the anchor on to the tracks, ignoring it as it bounced along in order to break the glass in the last train car and get inside. She wound the chain around some of the empty chairs, telling everyone to hold on. 

Ladybug looked out the window. The anchor was still being dragged along, bouncing over the tracks. Her hands gripped the frame of the window. “Come on...come on... _ catch something _ .” 

There was a loud thud and a high creak filled the air. The anchor hooked on to one of the metal rails and the train pulled against it. The rail screeched in protest as it twisted forward; the force of the runaway train pulling it off the ground. 

But the anchor did it’s job. 

Through the screaming and the sound of metal shifting, Ladybug could feel the train slow to a stop. 

There was no sound of explosions. No cries of terror or horror. No busted metal or glass or debris flying every which way. It was as if she watched the anchor and the rails grind the train to a halt in slow motion.

“Thank you, Ladybug!” She turned around. The entire car was hugging and crying with relief. 

She slipped out the window and jumped on to the near-by platform. The train had stopped a few meters from the one in front of it. It hadn’t crashed or derailed, but her legs felt weak. 

“Ladybug!” She heard a familiar voice and looked towards the top of the train. Chat Noir was running from the front. “Are you crazy-”

“Help everyone out,” she said, surprised that her own voice was steady. “I’ll reset the area to fix the track and poles.” 

She turned around and jumped back on to the track. She could hear his voice calling out to her, but he was drowned out by the sound of people cheering and thanking him. 

She didn’t care that they were. Her heart was still racing from the incident and she wanted to take a moment to breathe. When she heard the news of the runaway train while walking out of her work building, where the news was played on some screens in the lobby, she had rushed to action. 

Chat Noir was already there and he seemed ready to do whatever it took and while she thought him annoying, she wasn’t about to let him get killed. 

“Tikki, _ transform moi _ ,” she said. She checked her smart watch as Tikki seemed to collapse against her shoulder, tired from the duration of their heroics. They had arrived as soon as the train shot out of the tunnel and on to French soil. It had been nearly an hour. “Are you all right?”

“Just a little hungry,” Tikki said in her soft voice. “I’ll be fine.”

“Eat the cookies,” Marinette held open her purse flap and Tikki jumped in.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked. “This was more intense than usual.”

“Yeah...I’ll relax later.” She offered Tikki a weak smile. She had one solace to her day. “At least we get to see Adrien tonight.” 

* * *

The incident with the train made him late. Ladybug could’ve at least help him with getting the people off the train instead of running out to check the damage to the track. She was going to fix it anyway with her magic pink and red lights. Instead, he was left to make sure each train car was empty and everyone was safely out. 

He checked his smart watch as he ran up the stairs from the metro station, squeezing past the throngs of people heading home for the day. He was absolutely late and on their six month anniversary, too!

He skidded to a halt as he reached the ground level. 

He looked down at his hands. His _ empty _ hands. “Oh no....”

He turned around, searching the ground and the stairs to the metro.. Before the train incident, he was holding a bouquet of pink and white roses with dark red ranunculus. He also bought her several yards of expensive fabric from a specialty fabric store that was supposed to be delivered to his apartment that day, but had planned on laying the flowers out along with the fabric on the table for her to see when she walked in. 

What happened to his flowers? 

This was all Ladybug’s fault. She didn’t help him, made him rush, and he lost his flowers in the chaos. He’d tell her for sure when they clashed next. She was always telling him what to do, as if she were his boss. Then criticizing his methods. 

Sometimes, she was just too slow. People came first and as a superhero, his safety meant nothing if people were hurt or worse. Ladybug didn’t seem to realize that. If anyone should’ve been criticized for their pace, it should've been her. She wasn’t nearly as amazing as the people and media gushed. He’d be the first to tell her that. 

Adrien ran a frustrated hand through his messy, style hair and headed down the street opposite his apartment building to try to see if there were any flowers left at the florist near the grocery store. As he crossed the street, he caught sight of a familiar figure walking into the grocery store and a smile filled his face. 

Marinette must’ve come straight from work from her attire. Her hair as in its usual bun and she wore a light blazer; just enough to keep her warm in the early winter weather. 

Without thinking, Adrien followed her into the store, as if drawn by some unseen force and flowers all but forgotten. He glanced around upon entering and began to make his way past the aisles when he couldn’t see her. His smile only widened when he saw her, shopping basket hooked in the crook of one arm as she stood on the tips of her toes to get a box of pasta on a shelf she could barely reach. 

For a moment, he remembered the first time they met. He was perusing the store for snacks for himself and Plagg when he saw a pretty young woman jumping up and down. He had stopped and watched her with amusement. There was no way she was going to get that bag of chips, he thought. 

She was so focused on her task, she didn’t notice him. She seemed nice and he was going to leave the chance meeting at that until she called her parents’ bakery to help him out. He would learn, and adore, that Marinette was just the type of person to help people wherever she could. 

He took a chance to take her out for coffee.

Then lunch a week later after coffee was a success.

Then dinner after lunch wasn’t enough. 

Then a trip outside the city when a few dinners a week didn’t suffice. He was nervous in bringing up a relationship. She was a busy woman with a career and when she wasn’t working, sometimes she had things to do suddenly. It gave him time to do some Chat Noir-ing, which was strangely convenient, but it also worried him. What if she just wanted casual dating?

He didn’t need to worry. On the way back from a day trip to Brussels, Marinette blurted out that she wanted to know if he’d be okay with more than said casual dating. He nearly crashed the car he was driving off the road; it had caught him off guard. 

Adrien needed to pull over to answer properly. They didn’t get back on the road until someone knocked on his window to see if they were okay and he had to tear himself away from Marinette, her lipstick smeared all over his lower face as she tried to straighten her clothes. 

That had been the start of their relationship and he wouldn’t be lying if he said he was considering marrying the talented designer. 

The sight of her teetering on her toes to reach a box reminded him of what he hoped to one day have with her and he took a second to collect himself 

He crept behind her. Her pale face was starting to redden; irritated that while her fingertips were able to touch the box, she couldn’t grab on to it. 

Now was his time to shine. 

He stood behind her and reached up. He was over a head taller than her and reached the box with ease, bypassing her struggling fingers.

“This one,  _ ma chere _ ?”

“Ah, _ oui, mon cher, merci-”  _ She answered instinctively before sucking in a sharp breath and whirling around, her big beautiful blue eyes wide. “Adrien!” Her face lit up as he lowered his arm and moved closer. His girlfriend was so cute, it almost pained him. 

“ _ Bonsoir _ .” He closed his eyes as he gave her a soft kiss on the lips. He dropped the box of pasta in her shopping basket before gently pulling it off to carry it for her. “Do you always thank people that way?”

“No, you’re the only one who gets things for me.” She kissed him back. 

“Happy six months.”

She giggled against him, resting her small hands against his chest as she smiled. “Happy six months.” Her brows knit together just a bit before she lifted one hand and stroked some hair out of his face. “You’re all flushed. Were you in a rush?”  
He was. He planned to get to the apartment before she did to set up the gifts and thanks to Ladybug, that was not happening. He tried to keep the irritation at the memory of the black and red clad super hero off his face. 

“I just wanted to see you as soon as possible,” he said, leaning down once more to give her another kiss. “How was work? My father driving you crazy?”

Marinette looped her arm in the one he offered as he held the shopping basket in his other arm. “He’s not. It’s hectic, but manageable.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.”

He leaned closer and pressed his head against hers. “Are you sure....?” he asked in a melodic voice. She tended to try to keep her problems to herself, so he had taken to encouraging her to vent. “That annoying co-worker you talked about isn’t giving you any problems is he?” 

Her face darkened for just a second and he gave himself a small, knowing nod. She wouldn’t name names, likely because she didn’t want to out a co-worker to her boss’ son - very admirable, in his opinion, though he wished she did. She often talked of one particular man who drove her up the wall; always taking her credit and trying to show her up. 

“He was being reckless again today,” she said, her voice lowering just a bit. “One of these days he’s going to mess up and we’re all going to pay for it.” 

Adrien frowed. “You should report him if he’s causing problems.”

Marinette took a deep breath. “I can’t. He’s annoying and a show off, but he does his work.” 

“He’s still an idiot.”

“I agree.” Marinette’s arm tightened around him. “But I don’t want to talk about him. He already made me want to pull my hair out today.”

“Okay.” Adrien placed another kiss atop her head. “Don’t think about him any more tonight. Tonight is just you and me.” 

She giggled and rested her head against his shoulder, looking content. “Just the way I like it.” 

* * *

She was sure the ratio was incorrect and she checked the recipe her father sent her on her phone. Marinette looked back at the glass bowl. That didn’t look like the right color she was used to seeing at the shop. Did she get the measurements wrong? Again? 

Marinette leaned back against Adrien’s kitchen counter and went over the ingredients in her head. She was listening to a show and had paused a few times when it was getting good. She sighed. Why did she always get distracted?

“I’m home!” The front door opened and she heard shuffling as Adrien returned from errands he was running that Saturday. He popped into the kitchen with a grocery bag in one hand and flowers in the other. 

She pushed herself away from the counter and smiled. “Welcome back....” She eyed the flowers. “Are those for me?” 

“They are.” He placed the groceries on the counter and crossed the kitchen to reach her. 

One arm reached for her as the other presented her with the flowers. Her face heated up. No matter how many times he brought her flowers or yummy treats, she’d always suddenly feel shy. Her heart would race, knowing that along with the gifts, she’d get a kiss. 

His warm lips closed over hers and she closed her eyes. She leaned closer and could smell the scent of his cologne. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Weekend with Marinette.” She heard him murmur against her chin as his lips followed the curve of her head to get to her neck. 

She held back a smile as she held the small bouquet of white and pink against her. “You spend every weekend with me.” He had for nearly the last year. 

She heard him let out a small, agreeing ‘uh-huh’. “Every weekend with Marinette is an occasion.” His free hand slid beneath the white shirt she was wearing and she bit her lips. His hand stopped just over her ribs. He pressed his lips against her neck and felt a hot, wet tongue. He drew his head back and gave her a quizzical look. “Are you making matcha macarons for Alya? I thought she didn’t like matcha.” 

Her eyes shot open and she clamped one hand on her neck. She drew her fingers across her skin and felt a light dusting of something coating the side of her neck somehow. She brought it to her mouth and licked her finger tip. Her eyes went wide as she pulled away from him and rushed across to the counter by the stove to check on a container. 

She lifted up a small glass jar and turned it around. Matcha. 

She slumped over, defeated, and felt warm arms around her, taking the bouquet from her hand and placing it to the side before tightening around her. “You can start over. I’ll eat the matcha ones,” Adrien said as he began to rock her against him. 

“I knew they were too dark to be pistachio.” 

He chuckled and kissed the side of her head. “Your mom warned me this would happen.” She groaned into her hands. “It’s okay, we can start all over.” 

“We’re out of almond flour,” she mumbled out.

“Are we?” Adrien asked, his voice teasing. “I think you’ll find that your wonderful boyfriend is prepared.”

She tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” 

“Guess what I bought at the grocery store on my way back.” She kept her eyes narrowed. He seemed so proud of his forethought. 

“Wait...did you expect me to mess up?” She watched his face slowly redden as he avoided her eyes. 

“I noticed we were kind of low this morning....” His voice trailed off. He pouted and looked down at her deadpan face. “I don’t get even a little credit for trying to help?”

Marinette sighed and leaned up to kiss his chin. “A little.” She squeezed out of his embrace and headed to the grocery bag. “There are worse things than having a boyfriend who covers your back, right?”

“I also kind of wanted to try making them myself,” Adrien said. “I bought some raspberries to put on them.” 

Marinette nodded as she went through the bag. Everything they needed was there. “Did you call my parents?”

“I was worried the recipe only applied to measurements for the pistachio,” Adrien said. “Your dad also said not to leave you alone unsupervised in the kitchen.”

She gave him an affronted gasp. “I’m not that bad!” She walked across the kitchen to get the correct flavoring for the pistachio macarons. She reached upwards to try to get to another green jar. “Can you get me the chair-”

He was already behind her, plucking it off the top cabinet shelf. “Pistachio.”

He held it in front of her and she smiled, turning around to face him as she raised her arms and rested them around his neck. “ _ Merci _ ,  _ mon cher.” _

He swept down to give her another kiss, putting the pistachio on the counter behind her. She leaned into him and pulled him down. Her fingers played with his hair as his hands moved beneath her clothes to rub and stroke her warm, flushed skin. 

He picked her up, seating her on the edge of the counter before moving his hands down her legs. He pulled away from her to reach for the top buttons of his fitted jeans in between fervent kisses. 

Marinette was red and out of breath as he parted. She tilted her head to the side so he had better access to the sensitive spot on her neck. Her eyes fell upon the television past the kitchen. An image of a burning construction site shot from a helicopter filled the screen took her attention off her undressing boyfriend.

“...Fire threatens to collapse construction completely. Firefighters are trying to get to the trapped tourists in the underground level of the  _ galerie. _ ...”

Her hand slid behind her and she knocked over the glass jar. She gasped and pushed a now shirtless Adrien away. “Oh no! I spilled it!”

Adrien looked surprised as she slid off the counter with part of her shirt still lifted over her left breast. She tugged it down and took a step away. “That’s okay-”

“Honestly, I’m a grown adult and I’m still so clumsy. Can you believe it?” She put on a somewhat frustrated sigh and snatched her phone from the counter. “And I’m running out of time!” Marinette was now all the way at the other end of the kitchen, heading towards the foyer and her shoes. “I’ll run to the store to pick up some more!”

“Marinette-”

She took one last regretful look at half naked Adrien and bit her lower lip. He looked confused, standing in the almond flour dusted kitchen, in a pair of unbuttoned jeans. “So close....” she said in a low, pained voice before reaching for the door. “I’ll be back soon,  _ mon cher!”  _

The door slammed behind her and she raced for the stairs to get to the roof of the apartment building. 

“That wasn’t the best exit you’ve done,” Tikki said as she flew out of Marinette’s earring and floated around her.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Marinette said. “Let’s just go deal with this. The store isn’t too far and he’ll suspect something.” She reached the top of the stairs, nearing the door that led to the rooftop. “ _ Transform moi _ !” 

She kicked the door open before throwing her yoyo out and leaping off the rooftop. She could see the plume of smoke all the way across the city and frowned. She quickened her speed and landed by a barricade of officers. 

“Ladybug, you’re here!’

“How many people are trapped below?” she asked. 

“A party of fifteen are still trapped there,” an officer said. Ladybug nodded. “Some of the support beams have collapsed and are blocking the exit.”

“I’ll get them out.” She reached for her yoyo, but before she could toss it into the air, a black blur slid beside her. 

“Where are they?” Chat Noir said. In an instant, her face contorted into irritation as she shot him a glare.

“In the lower level-”

“I’ll get them!” Chat Noir said. He ignored her as he ran past the barricade. 

Ladybug ran a hand down her face. “He’s going to get us killed one day....” She threw her yoyo in the air. “Lucky charm!” Two objects fell in her hands and she rolled her eyes. “Of course....” She strapped on the oxygen tank and the mask before running after Chat Noir; his set under her arm. 

She grabbed him just before he reached a corded off entrance. He whirled around, looking ready to yell at her for trying to stop him. She shoved the tank and mask in his arms. 

“Put this on and let’s go!” She took a few steps forward and turned around. Chat Noir was looking at the things she gave him. She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing? Put them on and get your cataclysm ready!”

He looked towards her, confused. “Why are you giving me these?” He held up the red and black spotted items. 

“Because you need them to breathe down there!” Ladybug wanted to scream. “Listen, you’re always charging into things without thinking and this time, we don’t have time to lose and need to get down there, so put that on and let’s go!”

Chat Noir frowned. “I’m doing this for the people,” he said before putting his arms through the straps of the oxygen tank. “Not because you told me to.”

“Ugh....” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Are you that stubborn that you won’t even do something someone tells you when your life depends on it?”

“The only woman who can tell me what to do is my girlfriend,” Chat Noir said as he brought the mask over his face. He sounded surprisingly proud of that. “And you,  _ my lady _ , are certainly not her.” He gave her one last defiant look before passing her. 

Ladybug snorted. “That’s a relief! I’d hate to be the poor woman who has to deal with you everyday!” 

She ran in after them and was only partially surprised when he followed her orders. Chat Noir was being his belligerent self when they weren’t actively saving people and leading them out of the tunnels while making sure it didn’t cave in around them. 

As soon as everyone was out and ushered to safety, she fled the scene. She yelled ‘no problem’ as she swung away, appreciating, but not needing to drown in the thanks of the tourists they saved at that moment. 

She had to get some pistachios and then run back to her boyfriend’s apartment before he got concerned and came to see if she was okay. 

Transformed back into Marinette, she shot out of a nearby alley and made a beeline for the grocery store. She didn’t bother grabbing a shopping basket on her way in. She knew where the item she needed was. 

“Are you kidding me....” One bottle of pistachio left and it was, of course, on the top shelf. She stared at it from where she stood with utter betrayal, unable to even touch it with her finger tips.

“I knew you should’ve waited for me.” A pale arm reached up and took the pistachio from the top shelf before dangling in front of her face. The sound of his voice and the feel of his solid body comfortably brushing up behind her relaxed her. 

“ _ Merci, mon cher.” _

She felt him kiss the top of her head as she reached up to take the pistachio. He lifted it up and away from her before she could take it. 

“Why don’t I carry it back?” he said, grinning just a bit. “Just in case.”

“Haha.” She gave him a playful nudge to the side as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Did I take too long?” 

“Just a bit,” he said. “I was getting worried. What would I do without you?” 

She giggled as she led him towards the register. “No, no...what would I do without  _ you _ ?” 

He grinned and lifted the pistachio. “Not reach high shelves.” 

* * *

“I can’t believe this,” Lady Bug said as they landed in the library. “You don’t need to come.”

“This is my fight, too. In case you forgot, I was there first,” Chat Noir skidded beside her and clapped his hands together to dust them off after racing across the city. “If anything, you’re the one tagging along.”

“Me!?” She whirled around with an indignant gasp. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her hand, pressing her finger against his firm chest. “I’m the one who got the lead on this.”

He casually brushed her finger aside as he leaned forward. “But I was there first.”

“Oh, please.” She turned around and headed towards the back area of the library. “This is what I can’t stand about you. You always want to take credit even when credit isn’t due.”

“You’re one to talk,” Chat Noir said. He couldn’t believe his luck; to be stuck with Ladybug on the trail of an art thief. “You always have to be the hero. You can never accept help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “Yes, today really proved that, hasn’t it?” 

She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around to face him. “You can’t just be quiet for once, can you? You always have to open that big mouth of yours. I just hate-”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. You hate me, right?” His voice was low as he loomed over her. “So you’re finally admitting it?” 

Ladybug took a daring step forward. “I don’t hate _ you _ . As much as you annoy me, I can’t pretend that you don’t do your job. I just hate  _ how  _ you do it sometimes.”

He let out a small scoff. Normally, he wouldn’t lash out like this, but because she couldn’t handle a thief that slipped away, he had to come out and fix things. It was the worst possible moment for him to do so.

Marinette was probably waiting at the airport as they stood in that musty library, checking her watch and waiting for him to arrive. He hated having to lie to her and insist that he’d meet her there instead of taking the car to the airport with her. 

“What exactly do I do that you hate so much?”

“This,” she said. “You always have to be the center of attention. You always have to be the hero-”

“You’re one to talk-”

“And you always have to open your mouth and antagonize me! I think rather than asking me why I hate you, I should ask you why _ you hate me _ !” She put her hands on her waist and met his gaze with a demanding on. “Go ahead, Chat Noir. I told you what I hate about you. What do you hate about me?” 

“Your criticism!” His answer was immediate. “Ever since I showed up that day, what...ten, eleven...twelve years ago? All you’ve done is criticize what I do!”

“I criticize what you do because you’re reckless!” Ladybug said. “You don’t seem to understand that if you mess up, it isn’t just your life that’s in danger, but everyone you’re trying to help!” 

“I’m not reckless! I just want to help-”

“Yeah, I know. You want to help people. You keep saying that,” she said, her voice sharp. “How can you help people if you’re dead, Chat Noir? I may take longer than you, but I try to use my head. There are no second chances in this line of work.” 

Chat Noir drew his head back and looked away. “All I have is my strength and agility and ability to destroy,” he said, his voice low as he clenched his fists at his side. “Are you telling me I can’t even use those to help people?”  
She took a deep breath. “I’m just saying a little precaution wouldn’t hurt.” 

Chat Noir glared as she turned around and walked away. “You don’t need to treat me like an idiot.” 

“Then don’t act like one and go running to your death.”

“I’m not the one who let the thief get away!” 

He could tell he hit a fresh, sore spot. Ladybug stood before the door to the map room and lifted her hand, gripping the doorframe. 

“I didn’t ask you to come,” she said. Her voice was calm. “I could take care of this on my own.” 

“Unbelievable.” Chat Noir shook his head. “I came all this way to help you and, as usual, all I get is dismissed! I don’t even want to be here!”

Ladybug opened the door to the map room and walked inside, the automatic sensor lights illuminating the room as she walked in. “Listen, Chat Noir, I was doing this before you came on the scene and I’ll be happy to do it long after you’re gone.” She looked over her shoulder and he could see the icy look on her face. “If all you want is attention and glory, but aren’t willing to put in the work, then return your Miraculous.” 

“What?” She’d never told him that before and thought of returning his ring filled him with an unexpected emptiness. 

“You said you don’t want to be here,” Ladybug said, walking through the tall shelves. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

Chat Noir drew his head back. “Of course. I’d rather not be in a library trying to find some old city map so you can find a thief.” 

“Then leave.” She turned around from well within the map room and faced him. “You think you’re the only one who doesn’t want to be here, but has a duty?” Her eyes crinkled up. “I’m supposed to be with my boyfriend. We’re supposed to be going on a trip. Do you think I’d rather be here, trying to find some lunatic using the catacombs as a maze instead of with him?”

Chat Noir heard the frustration in her voice. Did she actually feel angry at herself for letting the thief escape the museum? “Then why are you here if you’d rather be elsewhere?” 

“Because it’s my duty,” Ladybug said. “That’s why I have the Miraculous. That’s why I’m careful and don’t just jump into things. I can’t do my duty if I’m dead.” 

He swallowed hard. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that when we met? Why do you just yell at me?” 

“Because you disregard what I say and do,” Ladybug said. “Can you honestly tell me that you don’t think my methods are too slow and a waste of time?”

He shifted where he stood. “Sometimes....” 

Ladybug shook her head. She turned around and began to look through the shelves. “Help me find a map that fits in with this piece the lucky charm provided,” she said, lifting up a red and black, torn off corner of a map. “The sooner we find it, the sooner we can both get back to where we want to be.” 

Chat Noir nodded and turned to face the shelves opposite her. It was an awkward feeling. He always assumed Ladybug hated him, so he’d rile her up just to get back at her. It didn’t cross his mind that she just took duty as a wielder of a Miraculous so seriously. 

“Just tell me,” he said, surprised he broke the silence. He ran his gloved fingers over the various flat drawers with maps beneath glass cases. “Next time. Like you did just now. Just tell me what the plan is.”

“Will you follow it, though?” 

“I can’t always promise I will, but I’d rather you tell me than yell at me.” 

“Then don’t ignore me.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

He heard her tired sigh behind him. “I’m sorry for thinking you’re an attention whore.” 

He perked up. “Wait, what?” He looked over his shoulder and saw her crouched at the base of a shelf, pulling out map drawers. “I like the attention as much as the next guy, but I’m not in it for the attention.”

She lifted her head and gave him a look of disbelief. “Then standing on a bus and waving to people chanting your name is an unwelcome benefit?” 

He looked away, guilty. “Okay, maybe I like it a little....but that’s not what I’m doing this!” 

“Yeah, yeah...you want to help people, I get it.” She looked back at the maps and he sighed.

“Okay, do I really appear like that?” 

“Yes.”

He shook his head at himself. “My girlfriend would find it hilarious.” 

“What? She doesn’t know of your love of attention?”

“Chat Noir likes attention,” he said, moving on to the next row of maps. “But outside the mask, I’m quite fine without it, trust me.” 

He heard her chuckle. Was that the first time he’d heard her laugh? “So, I’m taking it you’re also supposed to be with your significant other tonight?” 

“We’re flying out for some well deserved relaxation time.” Was it bragging if he talked about spending time with Marinette? No, of course not. “She’s had a hard last few weeks and I wanted to help her get away, relax. I want to make it a trip she won’t forget.”

“From the sound of it, you have something special planned.” 

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I do. I’m going to ask her to marry me.” 

“Really?” Her voice was filled with disbelief and he tried not to be insulted by it. He turned around and saw her give him a look of uncertainty. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Listen, I know you think I’m a reckless idiot who lives for attention, but when it comes to her-”

“I’m not judging you.” Ladybug lifted her hands up. She cracked a small, amused smile. “Honestly, good luck. I hope she says yes.” 

He was taken aback by her casual tone. “Really?” Now it was his turn to be in disbelief. She laughed and looked back at the rows of maps. She had a friendly laugh. Why hadn’t he ever heard it? 

“Really,” Ladybug said. “Now help me find that map so you can get to your soon-to-be fiance and I can get back to my boyfriend.” 

He found himself grinning just a bit before nodding. “Let me see that corner piece once more....” 

She handed it over to him as she continued to scour her side. Chat Noir lifted the piece up and squinted, trying to see if he recognized the style from what lines he could make out from his past history classes. 

“I think it's from the eighteenth century,” he said. He walked to the ends of the shelves to try to look for dates. He went down the rows until he found the time period. “Ladybug, over here!”

He heard her rush over. “I’ll check this side.” He nodded and they split up; each taking one side of the aisle. “Chat, give me the piece.” Without looking back at her, he held it out. He felt it pulled from his hands. “I think I found it!” 

“Where?” He turned around and saw her reaching to a shelf further up. From his angle, he could see a map under glass with a corner piece ripped off. 

And Ladybug was too short to get it. He drew his lips inward to stifle a laugh. They were finally getting along; no need to laugh at her and have the last ten minutes of peace go up in flames because he couldn’t help but laugh at the painfully average struggle of a superhero he’d seen jump over buildings.

“I got it.” He reached past her and began to pull out the drawer. He stepped back as she pulled out the drawer that acted as a table built into the shelf for him to put it on. As he placed it on the table top, he heard her distracted voice.

“ _ Merci, mon cher _ .”

He snapped his head from the map to the woman across from him silently moving the ripped corner piece over the glass to match it up with the rest of the map. 

He knew that voice. He knew that voice speaking those words. He’d heard it over and over and associated with  _ her _ .

“What...what did you say?” Chat Noir couldn’t take his eyes off her face as she looked up, confused as to what he was asking. The dark, soft hair that fell over those laughing, cheerful blue eyes seemed far too familiar now falling over a red and black mask. His chest tightened.

“I said thanks,” Ladybug said. When he didn’t answer, Ladybug sighed and crossed her arms. She opened her mouth, as if to reprimand him, when her voice caught in her throat. Her eyes began to narrow and she raised a brow. “Are you okay? You look pale. Don’t tell me you’re surprised that I thanked you? I’m not rude--”

“You called me ‘ _ mon cher _ ’.” 

It took another second for her to realize what she said and her eyes seemed to nearly double in size as her face began to flush. Her arms fell at her sides. “I...I did not!” 

“Yes, you did,” Chat Noir said, as if reaffirming it himself. He moved closer, straining to get a better look at her face. “Why did you call me that?”

“It was an accident! A slip of the tongue!” Ladybug said, stepping back and running back against the bookcase. She sucked in a sharp breath and turned to give it an accusing look.

Chat Noir didn’t move away. He kept his eyes on hers. “An accident?” He repeated, unconvinced. “Say it again.”

“No!” She was blushing. Ladybug grit her teeth together and met his face defiantly. “It wasn’t meant for you! I just always call my boyfriend that!”

He seemed to swallow hard. “Your...boyfriend?”

“Yes!” Ladybug looked away and began to ramble. “He’s tall and always reaches up and gets things off shelves for me. In fact, that’s how we met at a grocery store. Your movement was familiar, so it just came out-”

“Marinette?” She tensed. 

The room was silent and Chat Noir was sure he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. 

The color on her face seemed to slowly vanish. Her eyes darted away. “Who are you talking-”

He grasped her free arm, his fingers circling her wrist as he took her hand and brought it to the side of his face to force her to look at him. He could see the panic in her face as he remained, unmoving in front of her. He chose his words carefully as he steeled himself for the answer. “Are you...Marinette?” 

His voice had softened and she drew her head back. She squinted, studying his hair and face. He watched her eyes grow large once more. Fear seemed to fill them and his own heart dropped. This was impossible. 

“Adrien?” 

“Marinette.” He stepped back and shook his head. “No...no....”

“Wait, Adrien-”

“This isn’t happening!” He stumbled back against the bookshelf behind him and Ladybug extended her hand. “No, this isn’t how it was supposed to go!” 

She looked terrified and he couldn’t understand why. He was the one who ruined everything. “Adrien-”

“You know!” he said, gasping.

Her eyes crinkled up once more. “Wait, let’s talk about-”

“No, it’s too late,” Chat Noir said. Ladybug began to pull back her extended hand, a hurt look on her face. “It’s ruined...you  _ know. _ ” She lowered her eyes and Chat Noir grit his teeth. “The proposal’s ruined!” 

Ladybug seemed to tense up. “The...the proposal?” 

“I was going to ask you when we were on the island! I had an entire dinner planned and we were going to be out on the terrace and I have this ring-”

He didn’t notice her jaw drop. “That’s what you’re worried about!?” 

“What else would I be worried about?” Silence drifted between them as his demand went unanswered. 

She stared at him, as if he’d lost his mind. “Adrien...I’m  _ Ladybug _ .” Her words were slow and measured as she watched him react to them. “And  _ you’re _ Chat Noir.”

He narrowed his eyes. Of course. Over a decade of rivalry was between them. They’d known each other longer as Chat Noir and Ladybug than they had as Adrien and Marinette. Yet, all he could think of were the happy moments of the woman he’d fallen in love with. Pain cut through his heart and he lifted his hand over it; grasping at his chest. “I...I didn’t know.” He watched her lift her hand to her mouth as her eyes began to water. Did this revelation break her heart like it was tearing at his? “I didn’t know, I’m sorry....”

She lifted her eyes and shook her head. “No...not it’s not your fault. I....” She seemed to be struggling to find the words and Chat Noir could feel the dread filling him. 

She was going to break up with him. 

The thought echoed in his mind and he shook his head, unwilling to accept it. He loved her. Ladybug or no Ladybug, she was still his Marinette, wasn’t she? Didn’t he wake up to her snoring on his chest that morning? Didn’t they have breakfast with her parents and run to do one last check on some designs at his father’s before laughing and falling over each as they scrambled to pack last minute? That was just a few hours ago. 

“Don’t,” he said. “Please don’t. I know you hate Chat Noir, but please....”

She shook her head. “Chat-”

“I’m sorry for getting in your way.” He was pleading, looking at her with a broken expression. “I’m sorry for always being so reckless and not listening to you-”

“Chat-”

“Please, Marinette, I didn’t know-”

“Chat Noir!” He froze in front of Ladybug. She knit her brows together and gave him another slow shake of her head. “I told you that I don’t hate Chat Noir.” 

“But this changes things doesn’t it?” he said. “We’re always at each other’s throats. We don’t even like each other.” 

She looked hurt by his words. “You don’t like me?” 

“No!” He nearly jumped at her to try to convince her otherwise, but held himself back. “Of course I do. Just because you’re Ladybug doesn’t mean I love Marinette less. I can be a better Chat Noir, like tonight, if you give me a chance. Just,  _ please _ -”

She held up her hand to stop him from continuing. “As...confusing as this all is...we have a job to do right now.”

He had to keep himself from stumbling back, as if hit by her words. “What?” 

Ladybug stood up straight and swallowed. “Can I just tell you the plan?” 

He stared at her and tried to fight back the tears. “The plan?”

“You said to just tell you next time,” she said, keeping her eyes on his. “Didn’t you?” She looked serious, but her cheeks were still flushed beneath the mask. He chided himself for not being able to recognize those cheeks he’d kiss hundreds of times. How could he have not recognized them?

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Right....” At the moment they weren’t just Adrien and Marinette. They were Chat Noir and Ladybug. They had a job. A duty. And he knew now that it came first with Ladybug. They could deal with... _ everything else _ , after. “The plan....”

“Let’s find the thief,” Ladybug said. She took a step forward and lifted her hand to place it back against his face, where he had put it before. He trembled against her and her eyes seemed to soften. Her thumb stroked his cheek. “The sooner we find him, the sooner we’re done.” 

Chat Noir gave her a shaky nod. “You’re right....”

She moved closer, a small smile on her soft, pink lips. She leaned upwards and stood on the tips of her toes as her hand slid to his shoulder. Ladybug grazed her lips against his and he stood there, unsure if he just had a hallucination. 

“Okay,” she said. She stroked the side of his face once more; slow, gentle caresses like she often did when they were laying around, watching streaming movies. The corners of her eyes crinkled up as her smile widened. “I want to get back to my fiance.” 

He repeated her words over and over in his mind before finally choking out the word. “Fiance?” 

She nodded and gave him a hopeful look. His time, he could feel his own face redden. “If he still would like to be my fiance?” 

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest, right above his heart. “Of course I do! I love-”

“I know,” Ladybug said. He recognized that loving smile Marinette always gave Adrien.  _ “Mon cher _ .” 

* * *

**A Quick Epilogue**

“Thank you, Ladybug! Thank you, Chat Noir!” The woman was in tears as Ladybug handed her the small toddler. 

“It’s no problem,” Ladybug said. She patted the woman on the shoulder as she stepped back. The toddler mumbled some words and waved his chubby little hand at her. Ladybug smiled and unhooked her yo-ho from her hip. 

“You behave now,” Chat Noir said, grinning as he bent down to ruffle the child’s hair before he also took a step back. 

Ladybug twirled her yo-yo and launched it into the air. She gave it a tug and hoisted herself up. Chat Noir kept a smile on his face as he extended his staff and used it to vault himself away. 

He could hear some of the bystanders talk amongst themselves as he left. 

_ It’s nice to see them getting along now.  _

Chat Noir held back a laugh as he landed on a rooftop and raced after the small speck of red and black darting away. How could they _ not  _ get along now? After all, Ladybug was quite amazing. He was more than happy to admit it.

He saw her jump into an alleyway and flung himself off the roof to catch up. 

She was reaching for her earring and he landed and grabbed her wrist. She turned around, her blue eyes widening behind her familiar mask. 

“Chat-Nmmph!” 

His mouth moved over hers quickly, hoping to entice her as her other hand rose and pressed against his shoulder. Her surprise seemed to fade as he slipped his tongue between her lips. He felt her warm, lean body relax against him as he pressed her against the alley wall. 

She smelled nice that afternoon. Sweet...did she go to her parents? He was going to ask her to pick up some tarts for him. 

His mouth trailed down the side of her face, against the soft curve of her jaw. 

“Chat Noir....” Her voice sounded breathless. Oh, he loved it when she whispered his name like that. Her fingers curled into his bicep, as if pulling him closer. He was glad to oblige. 

“ _ Bonjour, mon amour _ ,” he said in between hot kisses. “I didn’t think I’d see you this early today. Looks like I’m lucky.” 

She let out a feeble groan of protest, but still pressed her head against his. It took her another moment to seem to tear herself away. Her small, slender hands pressed against the black material of his suit as she pushed him back. 

Her heart-shaped face was flushed beneath the mask and she was looking to the side. Her shy expression was also cute, though, he adored every expression she had. He grinned, licking his lips as he watched her try to compose herself. 

“Chat Noir, I thought we agreed not to do this in public when we’re like this,” she said in a stern voice as she met his eyes. 

“But we’re in an alley alone....” He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “And I hardly call this public,  _ mon cœur. _ ” He felt her shudder against him and he smiled. “I missed you....”

“You’re the one who had to go away for work this weekend,” she said. Her pump, pink lip seemed to jut out in a pout and it took everything in him not to nip at it. 

“I know and I’m sorry.” Chat Noir wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, burying his face against the side of her head. Her small hands pressed and curled against the fabric of his shirt. He smiled a bit, knowing she missed him too. “But you didn’t want to come with me.”

“I had work, too.”

He was nuzzling her head; an endearing action he knew she was weak to. Besides, he missed her scent, the feel of her silky dark hair, and the warmth of her body and how it fit so perfectly in his arms. His hands slid down the side of her body, daring to go lower and pull her closer. 

“You’re not working now...come home with me.” He almost purred in her ear as he begged. 

She sighed, exasperated, though her cheeks were flushed a soft pink. “I was going home anyway.” Success! One wife successfully seduced! He grinned from ear to ear. “I just needed to stop by the grocery store.” 

“Then you should’ve called me.” He slowly pulled away, kissing her cheek once more as he did. “Plagg,  _ transform moi _ .” The black and green light swept over his body before a little, floating black kwami yawned and stretched his arms. 

“While you’re at the store, don’t forget my cheese, ‘kay?” Plagg said in a sing song voice. 

Ladybug sighed. “Tikki,  _ transform moi _ .” A similar light in pink and red ran down her body and Adrien smiled. She looked like she was on her way home from the studio. Her hair was in a neat bun and she was wearing a sleek dress beneath a black blazer. 

“You look beautiful, as always,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. Marinette’s face heated up once more. He chuckled and held out his arms. He thought they’d make a nice pair, as he was dressed well, too. Everyone would be so envious to see such a beautiful, talented woman on his arm. “I’m so lucky,” he said again with a cheeky smile. 

“Look who’s talking...” 

Tikki stretched out her small arms and greeted Adrien and Plagg before going to rest in Marinette’s satchel. Small smacking sounds were heard and Plagg gasped.

“Is she eating in there?” He sounded accusing.

“I always have some macarons for her.” Marinette smiled and reached up to pat Plagg’s head. “Don’t worry; we’ll get some cheese for you, Plagg.”

“Thanks, Marinette! I knew I could count on  _ someone _ !” Plagg gave Adrien a bit of side eye before ducking into the pocket of his dress shirt.

Adrien rolled his eyes. He looked back at Marinette and offered his arm. “Well, then, shall we go?”

“Are you sure you want to come?” she asked as she put her arm in his. “You just got back.” They headed out towards the street.

“Of course,” Adrien said. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Who else is going to reach the top shelves?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, like, the fifth ‘cute meet scenario’ I wrote for chapter five for these two. First, historical; then pirates; then two different modern AUs before this one. I finally settled on this cute meet because I hadn’t written a LadyNoir yet...even though that only kind of came at the end.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your patience with the updates for these ‘series of meets’. Towards the end of last year, several of my fingers had very painful stiff joints which made it difficult to type. I was on anti-inflammatories, had blood tests, an x-ray (apparently, I was just over using them), went to Disneyland for a few days (this is beside the point, but I didn’t write because I was gorging on holiday food), and took some time away from writing to try to let my hands heal. They’re not 100% better yet, but at the very least 92% and I can type without any pain. For now. 
> 
> That being said, I still plan to try to continue, but pace myself, and hope you will be patient with me. Thank you all very much for taking time to read and Happy Valentine’s Day! (Or, like me, Singles Awareness Day. I am eating chocolate at home, next to my cat while gathering things I need to take to my tailor.)


	4. Scenes From a Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rough night playing the part of partying socialite model leaves Adrien drained and he retreats to his flat to recover. As he peers out at the city nursing some sparkling water, he catches sight of his neighbor across the street stumbling into her apartment, arms filled with fabric bolts. She trips over sofa, sending the fabric everywhere, and he can’t help but chuckle, only to be caught in the act as she scrambles to her feet and sends her would-be neighbor a glare.
> 
> The next day, determined to apologize, Adrien tries to intercept the young woman and prove that he isn’t, as she presumes, an absolute jerk

Despite the pulsing neon lights and the beat of the music he could feel in his very bones, he didn’t look away from the cards laid out on the table before him. The petite, cheerful blonde across from him look pleased with her reading, but he wasn’t sure how to take it. 

Tarot was all the rage lately and he was cajoled into giving it a try by some friends while at the club. Perhaps it was the alcohol that lowered his defenses, but he found himself seated in the plush white leather booth, cheered on by some beautiful people he couldn’t remember the names of. 

“How lucky!” a young woman gushed at his right. She had been clinging on to him the entire night and he was sure his sleeve would reek of her expensive perfume when left. “Love is in the cards for you!” 

She batted her eyes and Adrien, despite the drinks still in his system, managed to contain his grimace at her less than obvious hint. 

“It’s only an interpretation and it doesn’t necessarily mean romantic love,” the blonde giving him the reading said in a high voice. “I’m reading it as the universe is saying Adrien has to allow himself open to accepting it.” 

His jaw tightened. Telling him there was a vague sign of love in his future was one thing, but telling him that he had to make an effort to accept it was another. How could she know he had his guard up? Even then? When some would-be model was stroking his hair and hanging his arms over his shoulders from behind the booth?

“Oh, you hear that, Adrien? You have to be more open,” the man said in a teasing voice. 

Adrien let out a forced chuckle. “It’s just an interpretation; no need to take it so literally, right?” he said, hoping that his words rejecting the reading wouldn’t hurt the tarot reader’s feelings. She was, after all, a friend of a friend. 

“Not literally,” a calm, familiar voice said just over the sound of music. Another glass with a golden mixture was placed in front of him. “It’s more like a suggestion.” Luka was always the voice of reason. He looked at the young woman who was giving the reading. “Right, Rose?”

She nodded, enthusiastic. “It’s always up to you whether you accept the universe’s suggestions or not,” she said. She began to collect the tarot cards and Adrien reached for the drink.

A pale hand with black painted fingernails held it back. Adrien lifted his green eyes up to meet his friend’s blue ones, noting the careful look of concern in them. “You sure you’re good for another?”

“Yeah, of course!” Adrien let out a dismissive laugh. He’d drunk much more in one night in the past. This was nothing. “Besides, this is my welcome back party, isn’t it?” 

Luka seemed hesitant as he removed his hand from the cup. “Yeah, and I want you awake to enjoy it. I haven’t even introduced you to my friend yet.” With that, he glanced around the club, eyeing the direction of the entrance. 

Adrien almost forgot that Luka had been earnest in introducing him to a designer friend who he hoped could network through Adrien. If it was any other person, Adrien would’ve tried to get out of it or grit his teeth and play along, but not get too involved. However, Luka was a good friend and he never did things without a reason.

If Luka asked to introduce his designer friend to Adrien, Adrien was more than happy to meet them and even look over their portfolio or sample pieces. He wasn’t a designer, but he’d been raised by one and prided himself on his good eye for talent. At least, that’s what he told himself. His mother often agreed, so that counted, right?

“I hope she can make it,” Rose said, shuffling through her cards. “She’s been so busy lately.” 

“I know,” Luka said. “She promised she’d try to make it, too.” 

Adrien finished the drink he was given and licked his lips. The woman by his side was tugging on his arm, urging him to get up and dance with her. As tired has he was, he decided to oblige. 

“Send her over when she gets here,” he said as he scooted to the edge of the booth. The woman looked excited and hopped out. Adrien set one foot on the sticky floor and felt a slight wave of dizziness. _ Not yet _, he told himself. Just another hour or two and then you can go home. 

A hand gripped his elbow and seemed to steady him. “Adrien.” Luka’s lips were pulled downward in that subtle look of disapproval he only gave when he was concerned. “I know we’re here to celebrate your return to Paris, but-”

“Luka, it’s fine!” Adrien gave him a dismissing wave of his hand and pulled his arm away. He allowed the woman to drag him to the dance floor. “Don’t worry so much!” 

He tried to ignore Luka’s slight frown, but made a point to stay in an area where he could be seen. It would at least put his friend’s mind at ease. Twice, he looked over and the last time he saw Kagami talking to Luka. She also looked displeased and Adrien was sure Luka was telling her that he was pushing himself and likely to collapse.

Adrien shook the thought out of his head. He wouldn’t collapse. He was a veteran in this sort of affair. A night of partying was relaxing. He had some drinks. The music was good. 

He stumbled back and blinked. He shook his head. Maybe he should sit down for a second. 

“Adrien!” He heard someone’s voice and wasn’t sure who it belonged to. He lifted his head; the flashing lights filling his senses as dizziness swept over him. He could’ve sworn he heard Luka swearing and suddenly, something struck him in the head and then darkness.

* * *

“Should we bring him to his room?” Kagami asked. Behind the firmness of her voice, there was a hint of worry. 

“I’m not going to carry him up the stairs if he’s going to vomit on me again,” Luka answered, still somehow calm.

He vomited on Luka? And Luka still brought him...where was he? Was he laying down?

“What a night,” Kagami said. “First she cancelled on us and now this.” 

“It can’t be helped. You know how busy she is.” Luka sounded exasperated. Adrien felt his legs being jostled around as someone removed his shoes. Probably Luka. God, he owed Luka so much. 

“I waited outside for hours,” Kagami sounded irritated. “I only came tonight because she said she was coming. You know this clubbing scene isn’t my thing.”

Oh, God, he owed Kagami, too. 

He opened his mouth to apologize and instead let out some raspy groan. He tilted his head and felt a slight pounding. 

“Oh, crap, the ice. Kagami, check for some ice!” 

Adrien could hear the shuffling of clothes and tried to crack an eye open. He could make out dim light from the hall and what appeared to the windows across his living room. “Where am I?”

“Your couch.” 

“How’d I get here?” Surely, Luka didn’t try to drive him over on his motorcycle. 

“Taxi.” 

He squinted and looked down. His bare from the waist up and his pants had a wet stain over one thigh. “Where’s my shirt?”

“In the sink in the bathroom, along with mine thanks to you.” Luka, too, was half naked. “Along with my jacket.” 

Adrien winced. He threw up on Luka _ and _ Luka’s favorite leather jacket. “I’ll buy you a new one.” 

“Talk to me when you’re sober.” 

“Here’s some ice! He didn’t have much.” Luka lifted his hand and caught a plastic baggy in the air that crunched with frozen bits. 

“Here...put this on your head.”

“My head....?” Adrien began to feel the dull throb as the cold pack touched his skin. “What happened?”

“You ran into someone holding a drink and hit your head against a table,” Kagami said, unimpressed. “Then you blacked out. We were dragging you out and while I was getting a taxi, you threw up on Luka.” 

Adrien lifted his hand and placed it on top of the ice pack. “I’m so sorry, guys....”

“I’ll scold you more when you’re better,” Luka said. “For now, I’m stealing a shirt.”

“I’m going to head home,” Kagami said. “I’ve had enough of this for one night.”

“Sorry, Kagami.”

She let out a small, distasteful grumble. “Do better next time, Agreste.” Luka stood up to see her out. 

“Luka,” Adrien said, sounding pitiful from the couch. “I’m really sorry.”

“I know,” Luka said. He was climbing the stairs to one side of the two story apartment to get to Adrien’s room and take a shirt. “I’m going to take a jacket, too.”

“Take whatever you want.” 

“I plan to.”

“You’re the best. I love you.”

“I know.” 

Adrien closed his eyes and sank back into his sofa. He heard Luka come down and a few moments later, a small clink was heard. Adrien opened his eyes and saw the glass bottle of sparkling water placed on the glass coffee table top across from him. 

“Get some rest,” Luka said as he finished buttoning up a dark dress shirt. 

“Luka, about your friend you wanted to introduce me to...,” he said, in a croaking voice. “I still want to meet them.” It was the least he could do.

“When you’re better,” Luka said. “I’m not about to introduce her to you when you’re...like this....”

“I’ll take it seriously.”

“Uh-huh.” Luka rounded the couch. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.” 

Adrien tried to nod and instead felt a small pulse of pain. He groaned and Luka sighed. The door closed behind him and Adrien let out a low hiss. So much for his celebratory return. He knew that part of him wanted to leave the club and go home and rest, but he didn’t want to leave like that. He didn’t even get to spend time with the people he wanted to spend time with, instead being drawn into the same scene he usually fell into and played the part of.

Why couldn’t he be like Luka, the glamourous guitarist of Jagged Stone who was well respected and seen as a calm and easy going figure. No one ever pressured him to dance and people were hesitant to cling on to “St. Luka”. But when it was Adrien Agreste...oh, the attention didn’t stop.

He thought he’d be used to it growing up as a model and having famous parents. 

Yet there he was, twenty-seven and laying half naked on his couch after being dragged home from a club and vomiting on his friend, sporting a throbbing lump on his head, nausea, and guilt. So much for the break he wanted to take. 

He didn’t know how much longer he laid there before the condensation from the ice pack began to drip over his face. He pulled it off and pushed himself up, with some effort, and reached for the sparkling water. 

The fizzing cool liquid coursed down his throat and he leaned back against the couch, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath. What time was it even?   
He saw his phone on the coffee table, but found himself too lazy to reach for it. Instead, Adrien stared out the windows and the glass doors that led to a small iron lattice balcony. The thought of a nice night breeze was appealing. 

Adrien stood up and steadied himself. He put the ice pack on the table and picked up the bottle of water before lumbering to the glass doors across from him. The cool wind felt nice against his flushed skin and he stumbled out towards the edge, closing his eyes and relishing the air. 

He took another swig of sparkling water and looked across the street. The building across from him was older and, to his knowledge, wasn’t renovated like his was. The windows were a bit smaller, but he could see the lights were on in one of the rooms on the top floor. Someone must’ve been working late. 

A movement caught his eye and he squinted. Fabric bolts. He’d recognize them anywhere and they were moving? 

He blinked. Rather, someone was carrying them. An entire arm load of various fabric was being moved into the room. He could see a pair of skinny legs clad in black tights and some slim arms gripping the fabric, but he couldn’t see the head of whoever was carrying them. 

Adrien smiled a bit and shook his head. She was really struggling and he thought to himself that she really should just bring them in a little at a time. He took another drink from the water bottle and watched as she stumbled into the room and didn’t seem to notice the bright pink sofa in front of her. 

The fabric bolts spilled on to the floor and over the side of the sofa as she fell forward, her legs flying over the edge as she rolled over the top of the sofa, arms flailing. 

He spit out his water. He lifted a hand to his mouth to keep himself from laughing at the sheer comedic scene of it all. 

Adrien’s eyes crinkled up and he tried to hold back his chuckle before looking back at the window. 

A flushed face and a pair of narrowed eyes locked on to his in an instant and he sucked in a sharp breath. He drew his head back as the young woman with the dark hair pushed herself up to her feet and seemed to glare as she crossed the room to the windows. 

He lifted a hand. “Ah...wait....” His cheeks heated up as his amusement vanished and he leaned forward, feeling even more guilty. “I didn’t mean to-“

She grabbed the pale curtains on either side of the window and pulled them shut. Adrien found himself staring at the darkened windows and his shoulders slumped down. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He gritted his teeth and took another long drink from the bottle.

Great. Another person to apologize to.

* * *

How his phone still had battery was something that occurred to him later, but then again he hadn’t used it much that night. It vibrated against the glass coffee table and he looked up and cringed at the sunlight pouring through the windows. He lifted his arm and felt a dull ache all over his body. 

He glanced around. Why was he looking up at his phone? Why was he sleeping on the floor? Did he roll off the couch? He shook his head and reached for his phone, thinking himself an idiot as his hand hit the glass before he thought to reach over the edge to get it. 

By the time Adrien got his phone, the ringing had stopped and Luka’s name on the screen indicated that he had called to check in, as he said the night before. It was ten something in the morning and Adrien groaned, resting his arm over his eyes. It was a weekend...right? 

That meant he could sleep in? He shut his eyes tightly and tried to think of anything he had to do that day. Groceries? Later. Laundry? Luka’s jacket.... What about a meal with his parents? Didn’t he say he was going to meet them for...dinner? Lunch? Or was that tomorrow? 

He was missing something and he wracked his hazy mind, trying to remember. He opened his eyes and tilted his head towards the sound of cars going through the street below. The glass door was left partially open from the night before and he frowned. No wonder it was kind of chilly. He pushed himself up and rolled to the side, trying to avoid hitting the coffee table as he crawled away from the couch.

As he eyed the door, he remembered the pair of blue eyes glaring at him from the night before. His own eyes went wide and he shot to his feet.

“Ow!” He yelled as he dropped his phone and reached for his shin. He glared at the offending coffee table as hobbled back to the balcony. He squeezed through the door and looked over the side of the iron railing. 

Her windows were open. A wave of relief filled him, though he wasn’t sure why. It was mid-morning; there was no reason to keep them closed any longer. He let out a low breath and leaned over the side of the railing, running his hand through his disheveled hair. If he ran into her in the street, he would apologize. 

How he’d time such a thing, he wasn’t sure, but he wanted to at least apologize for chuckling the night before. He couldn’t help himself, even though he felt like a jerk afterwards. Maybe he could buy her coffee to make up for it? 

Adrien glanced down at the windows below, across the street and saw a blur of black and white sweep past a doorway. He stood up straight and moved across his balcony to follow the figure.

She had dark hair and bangs swept over her forehead. It was in a bun and she was putting earrings on, appearing to be in a hurry. Adrien stumbled back. Was she leaving? If she was leaving, maybe he could meet her downstairs and apologize. He turned around and slammed into the glass door, groaning and rubbing his face as he stumbled through and narrowly avoided another collision with the coffee table. 

He walked to the foyer, eyeing the random pair of shoes placed against the wall before stopping and putting his hands on his chest to check if he had his keys on him. He looked down. 

He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Right....” He turned around and tore open his closet door. A sweater. All he needed was some sort of sweater or something. Blazer. Blazer. Coat. Leather jacket. Denim jacket? “That’ll do.” He snatched it from the hanger and shoved his hands through as he tried to slip his feet into the brown shoes that didn’t match at all with the jacket. 

Whatever, it wasn’t as if it was a shoot or he was meeting his father, who would look absolutely scandalized at his son’s chosen ensemble. 

Adrien grabbed the keys one of his friends left on the counter and shoved them into his pocket before he shot out the door. He reached the small elevator and frantically pushed the down button.

“Come on...come on....” It dinged and as the door opened Adien stepped forward. He barely stopped himself from running into an older couple returning with groceries.

“_ Bonjour, Adrien, _” the old lady said with a warm smile.

“_ Bonjour, Madame Martin, Monsieur Martin.. _..” He forced a smile as he silently urged them to quicken their pace. As soon as the path was clear, he darted into the elevator and pressed the down button. He couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting inside the elevator.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach the ground floor and once it did and the doors open, he was racing across the lobby to get to the doors. He burst through the front doors, as if a free man, and tried to re-orient himself on the street. 

The young woman’s building was directly across and....? 

He looked around. Adrien crinkled his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair once more. He looked up and down the street, wondering if he had missed her. His arms dropped at his sides as he stood on the sidewalk, lips pursed and feeling defeated. Maybe he should’ve come out without a jacket. 

The single door to the building across from him opened and a young woman in black pants, pointed flats, and a sleeveless white blouse slipped out. A large tote was hooked on her arm as she fixed her gaze on the screen of her phone. She didn’t seem to notice him as she turned in the direction of the bus station around the corner. 

It took a moment for Adrien to pull himself out of his stupor. He dashed across the street, lucky that there were no cars, while waving his arms in the air.

“Mademoiselle!” She didn’t lift her head. Perhaps she thought he wasn’t calling out to her. “Mademoiselle in the white blouse!” 

At that, her head snapped up. She turned around, a confused look on her pretty, heart-shaped face. Adrien swallowed. Oh...she was much cuter in person. Petite with soft features and those eyes....

“Sir? Are you calling me?” she asked, looking around to see if he had the right person. 

He nodded. “Yes! I’m sorry, I wanted to apologize!” The look on her face told him she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “About last night!” Adrien tried to elaborate. Her face looked even more confused before turning concerned. The kind of concerned women had when they were cornered by a creep on the street. Adrien took a step back at once. He made sure to put some distance between them and give her a visible route of escape. “I’m sorry, that sounded strange! Let me explain!”

She narrowed her eyes and Adrien lifted his hands and showed her his palms, as if to show he was unarmed for some reason. 

The young woman frowned. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Wow, that hole he was in was getting deeper each time he opened his mouth. Adrien ran a hand down his face. “What I mean to say is that, no, we haven’t met. I wanted to apologize for laughing yesterday.”

She tilted her head to the side, the confusion returning. She stared at him for a bit longer before the glint of recognition flickered across her face. Immediately, she frowned again. “Do you make a hobby of watching women through their window, sir?” 

He paled. “No! No, of course not! I do no such thing! I wasn’t looking, I mean, I wasn’t meaning to look. I was just on my balcony and happened to look down and saw you run into your sofa.”

Her face reddened and a small voice in the back of his mind screamed for him to retreat. “I had my arms full!”

“I know! I know! I saw. Not that I was watching! I just happened to look and see you fall-”  
“And laugh at me?”

“No!” He cried out. His face dropped. “Please, I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to laugh, it just came out for a second. It shouldn’t have at all and I’m sorry it did.” 

She met his eyes, still on guard. “Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.” 

“It won’t! I swear.” She didn’t give him any further reaction. She turned around and continued one her way. The guilt Adrien was feeling hadn’t subsided. Somehow, he felt like he had made it worse. “Wait!” He reached forward and was cut off by the sound of a motorcycle. 

The young woman stopped a few paces from him, looking up as a dark motorcycle pulled in front of them. The rider quickly parked and silenced the machine. His gloved hand reached up and pulled the helmet off his head. 

“Luka!” Adrien lifted his hand to his mouth. That was weird. Why did he sound like a woman? He blinked as he watched the young woman scramble to his friend and give him a tight hug before kissing his cheeks in greeting. “Thank God you’re here. This man-”

“Adrien?” Luka crinkled his eyes and looked at him with what seemed like a mixture of worry and pity. The young woman stiffened in his arm and turned around to follow his gaze to Adrien. “What are you wearing?” 

“You...you know him?” the young woman asked, unsure. 

Luka furrowed his brows and looked over at her. “Marinette, this is the friend Kagami and I told you about; Adrien? He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.”

A silence drifted between them as the young woman digested the information. Without warning, she jumped from Luka’s arm and her jaw dropped. “He’s _ what _!?” 

* * *

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also age twenty-seven, graduate of a prestigious art and design school, interned at Celine and worked at Prada before returning to Paris. Winner of numerous awards for fashion design and was looking to find work at another fashion house in her native France. At the moment, she was working on some projects for a gallery.

She was also a close friend of Luka’s younger sister and a person Kagami had mentioned in the past many times to the point that Adrien should’ve known, but, of course, didn’t. Because of Adrien’s connections to his father’s company, his friends thought it would be nice to introduce them and perhaps expose Marinette’s portfolio to his parents.

Of all the scenarios in which they could’ve been introduced, Adrien was sure this was one of the worst. 

He took three steps towards the cafe where she was waiting and stopped. “I can’t meet her.”

“Stop it,” Luka said in a firm voice. This time, he clamped his hand on Adrien’s shoulder to stop him from fleeing. “We talked to her. It’s fine.”

“She thinks I’m a jerk!” 

“Laughing at her when she fell was a jerk thing to do,” Luka said, ever calm and rightfully shaming. “She’s always been a bit of a klutz, so it’s a sore spot for her.”

“I didn’t know that!” Adrien groaned into the leather folio of hers that he had been gripping. None of this was going well. “How can I face her? I didn’t just laugh at her, Luka, I followed her out into the street like some half-dressed stalker-”

“You were wearing a jacket.”

“It was unbuttoned!

“Never bothered you before.”

“Luka, I’m being serious!” Adrien said, almost pleading. “I looked like a complete mess. It’s no wonder she didn’t believe you.” 

“Kagami has been spending the last hour in there with her trying to assure her that you are indeed who we say you are,” Luka said. “And I had to talk her into actually going through with this meeting after you came out, smelling of alcohol and vomit.”

Adrien paled. “I smelled of _ what _?” 

“That’s why I told you to go take a shower and pushed back the meeting,” Luka said. His grip on Adrien’s shoulder tightened and he began to steer him towards the cafe doors. “Marinette is the sweetest girl and you just had a rough first impression. I’m sure that once you get to talking, it’ll be fine - don’t make that face, Adrien.” 

The blond whimpered as they opened the doors and walked into the cafe. He immediately spotted a pair of brunettes in a corner table; the contrast of Marinette’s blouse against the dark walls filling his vision as he was forced forward by Luka looming behind him. 

“Ah, there they are.” Kagami lowered her cup of tea. Her unimpressed brown eyes told Adrien that she knew all that had happened and he shrank back.

“Sorry we’re late,” Luka said. “It was my fault. I didn’t get the message to get ready early enough.” 

“No, no, it was my fault,” Adrien said, purposely avoiding Marinette’s eyes. “I was hit in the head last night and wasn’t myself this morning.” 

He gathered his courage and glanced at the young woman who had been seated with her back to him. He expected a look of displeasure or, at best, disinterest. It surprised him to find her eyes combing down his body, as if taking in every single cut and thread on the clothes he had changed into. With such critical eyes on him, he straightened up at once. 

He was confident in his choice of clothing, post shower. A pair of slim gray pants, dark shoes, and a warm, striped white and dark gray cashmere sweater that stretched just enough over his chest to hint at his fit physique underneath. His hair was messy and quickly hand styled with gel to keep him looking casual. Lastly, he had put on an appropriate amount of cologne, although after Luka had mentioned the vomit and alcohol, he couldn’t help but feel as if the scents still lingered with him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier,” he said. Good, the words he rehearsed while in the shower were coming out. “My first priority this morning was to apologize. I was rude and shouldn’t have laughed.” _ Good, good. _ “Luka said you’re a klutz and I’m glad you’re not hurt.” 

Behind him, Luka closed his eyes and shook his head. Marinette’s cheeks puffed out ever so slightly as she blushed. 

“What he means to say is that he’s glad you’re okay,” Kagami said in a low, measured tone. She gave him a pointed look and Adrien nodded in agreement. She pushed her seat back and stood up. “Well, I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re leaving already?” Marinette looked to Kagami, disappointed. She sounded much nicer than when they first met.

“I have a fencing class to teach and need to get ready,” Kagami said. She put some money on the table and Marinette pushed it back. “For my coffee.”

“No, I’ll pay,” Marinette said.

“Adrien will pay,” Luka said. “Right?” Several pair of eyes were on him and he nodded. “Great.” Luka patted Adrien on the shoulder. “I’ll be over there. Come get me when you’re ready to go back.” 

“Okay,” both Adrien and Marinette said at the same time. The two looked at each other and Luka sighed. 

“I was talking to Marinette.” 

“Right! I knew that!” Adrien’s face reddened. He watched Luka go towards the counter as Kagami exchanged cheek kisses with Marinette and left. 

“Ahem,” a voice said behind him. He turned around and watched the young woman motioned a hand towards Kagami’s vacated seat. 

He swallowed hard and took the seat. He placed the leather folio in front of her and took a deep breath. Here went nothing.

* * *

“See? What did they say?”

“That he’s a nice guy and knows what he’s talking about in regards to fashion,” Marinette said, repeating in a dull voice what her friends had assured her. 

Alya was laying across the very couch she had tripped over the other night, munching on some bread from Marinette’s parents bakery. “Luka would never steer you wrong and you know Kagami is so brutally honest. She’s not one to sugar coat things.”

“I know...,” Marinette was crouched down beside her dress figure, pinning some folds of cloth against it. “But you didn’t see him that morning! He practically ran after me and even Luka was surprised to see him.”

“He did just want to apologize and if what we know is true, he was probably hung over or something. It must’ve been a struggle for him to get up.” 

Marinette let out a little snort. “I believe that...,” she said under her breath. “You’re being way more casual about this than normal.”

“That’s because we’re talking about Adrien Agreste, girl! Adrien Agreste!” Alya sat up on the couch and Marinette could feel her eyes boring into her back. “You had his picture all over your room when we were teenagers.”

Her face flooded with color and she tried to stop herself from turning around. “He was a model! They were pictures of clothes!”

“Yeah, and it just so happens that those clothes were always on Adrien?”

“His father is the designer!” Marinette groaned and shot Alya a pleading look. “It was a coincidence!”

“Uh-huh,” Alya said, grinning. “So...what did he say about your portfolio?”

Marinette let out a low breath. She turned and looked across the room at Alya. “He was surprisingly professional.” Alya’s grin grew even wider and Marinette flushed. “Which is to be expected, right?” 

“Right, right.... What did he say?”

Marinette sat down on a chair. “He said I have some serious talent.” Alya let out a squeal and Marinette grimaced. She tried to elaborate. “He liked a good portion of my work and had some questions on where I studied and what I did at Celine and Prada. He also suggested I remove some pieces from the portfolio before he could give it to his parents. I ended up emailing him some things to pick from and then he helped me curate a portfolio that is more his father’s taste. He’s having dinner with his parents tonight and he’s going to approach them about me then.” 

Alya’s eyes went wide. “I knew it! I knew you’d get their attention!”

“I haven’t done anything yet-”

“You designed and worked on all the stuff you gave him! Of course you’ve done something!” Alya sat up straight. “Marinette, this is big. This is Gabriel and Emilie Agreste. If they like your work, you’re as good as in.”

“But what if they don’t?”

“And what if they do?”

“But what if they_ don’t _?”

Alya leaned back against the sofa. “Oh, honestly...if they don’t then it’s their loss, but I know your work and neither Celine nor Prada wanted to let you go.”

“I’m still nervous.”

“That’s only natural, but we all have faith in you.” Marinette gave Alya a thoughtful smile, glad that she invited her friend over that night. 

She opened her mouth to thank Alya when her phone, situated on the arm of the sofa, began to vibrate and fall to the floor. She nearly drove to catch it and barely managed to get her hand on it before it hit the ground. She did, however, land hard on her knees and groaned as she doubled over. Alya sighed. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine....” Marinete remained on the floor and looked at the phone she caught in her hand. She sat up straight, her voice was low. “Adrien texted me.” 

“What?” Alya scrambled to the edge of the sofa. “Is it about...?”

Marinette was reading the text. It was rather short and simple: _ They loved it! Expect a call from my dad’s assistant. _Then some emojis to show happiness and excitement. 

“His parents liked my portfolio,” she said, staring at her screen. “Alya...his father’s assistant is going to-”

Her phone began to vibrate and she let out a yelp as she threw in the air. 

“Marinette!” Alya cried out as she lunged to catch it before it slammed into the floor. She threw Marinette an exasperated look as Marinette rubbed the back of her neck. 

“Heh...sorry....” She took the phone Alya handed her and looked down at the number on the screen. Her brows furrowed. “I don’t recognize the number....” Normally, she would just let it go to voicemail. 

Alya let out a gasp. “Answer it! It could be the assistant!” 

Marinette tilted her head to the side. “So soon?” 

“Just do it!”

She slid her finger across her phone and lifted it up to the side of her head. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” It was the firm voice of a woman and Marinette glanced nervously at Alya. 

“Umm...yes, this is she.”  
“_Mademoiselle_ Dupain-Cheng, my name is Nathalie Sancœur, Gabriel Agreste’s assistant.” Her words were like a punch in the gut and Marinette struggled to keep from letting out a gasp. “Mr. Agreste has recently come across your portfolio and is very interested in having you come in for an interview. We are looking to bring in new talent to our internal design department and you appear to be a good fit.”

_ Don’t cry, Marinette. Don’t cry! _ She gripped the back of the sofa to steady herself. “I would love to come in for an interview.” She looked at Alya, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, hands clenched in anticipation. “Yes...yes, Monday morning at 9 is great! Wonderful! I will see you then!” 

She lowered her phone, her face ashen as her heart slammed against her chest. She got an interview. Good Lord, she actually got an interview!

“You did it!” Alya screamed as she shot up from her seat. She threw her arms around Marinette and began jumping up and down. “I heard her! Very interested! She said they were very interested, Marinette! You’re in!”

It was almost too good to be true. However...when did Gabriel Agreste ever outright offer a position?

Marinette let out a scream and grabbed on to Alya. Their excited cries filled the air as they jumped up and down. Alya threw her arms around Marinette and gave her a hug as they jumped. 

“This calls for a celebration!” she said as she tore herself from Marinette and rushed to the kitchen. “Do you have any wine left?”

Marinette laughed. “I think we drank it all last time.” 

Alya let out a little ‘boo’ and marched to the door. “I’m going to get some! I’ll be back!” 

She was out the door before Marinette could stop her and Marinette giggled. It was only an interview; she didn’t have the job yet, but she couldn’t stop herself from raising her hopes. 

She felt a vibration against her hand and looked down at it still clutching her phone. Adrien’s name popped up and she wondered if he had heard his father’s assistant already called. She slid her finger across the screen and read the message.

_ You look excited. Did Nathalie call? _

Marinette jerked her head back and looked around. Did he see her? How....

She turned around to the windows facing the street. She walked over and looked up. Standing on the balcony across the street and a floor up, with his arms resting on the top of the railing as he gave her a small wave, was Adrien. He was dressed well again today with his clothes fitting his body well and highlighting all his numerous attractive features; the morning they met must’ve really been a fluke like Kagami and Luka insisted. 

A small smile reached her lips as she lifted a hand and returned the wave. She looked down at the phone and began to write out a reply. 

_ She did! I suppose I have you to thank for your help? _

She pressed send and looked back out the window. She lifted her phone and pointed at it. Adrien stood up straight and reached into his back pocket. He seemed to read over her text and smile at his phone. She bit her lips. Oh yeah, he was definitely a model....

He was typing rapidly and after a few moments looked back down at her and beamed. Her phone vibrated once more. 

_ I just showed them your work. You did the rest. _

He then added a few more happy faces. Marinette laughed as she responded. 

_ Yeah, but they wouldn’t have seen it without you. I definitely owe you! _

She looked back out the window and watched Adrien’s cheerful face seem to melt into a more serious look. She frowned. Did she say something she shouldn’t have? Adrien glanced back down at her before turning his back to her building and walking into his apartment. 

“Uh-oh...” she said. She really did say something she wasn’t supposed to. She lifted her phone once more to try to salvage the situation, only for it to vibrate with another message. She couldn’t read it fast enough. 

_ Then, once you get hired, would you like to have dinner? _

Her heart seemed to stop for just a moment as she re-read the text. Was she reading it right? Was he asking her out?

Marinette snapped her head back to his balcony. Adrien was crouched against the dark iron railing, peeking from between the metal bars. Was he embarrassed? Her face heated up. Her entire body seemed to get warmer. 

She swallowed once more and opened the screen to reply. Her fingers hesitated, her mind drawing a blank. She took a deep breath and lowered her phone. She looked back at Adrien, who seemed uncertain from where he was crouching and gave him a nod.

He shot up. He leaned forward, over the railing, and seemed to mouth the word ‘really’? She giggled a bit and nodded. A look of relief filled him and he relaxed. He hunched over the railing, resting his head on his arms as he looked down at her apartment with a look that made her blush even more. 

She looked away, a hand raising and touching her heated cheek. She was definitely blushing. Her phone vibrated once more and she glanced down. Adrien responded. 

_ Thanks. _

* * *

“I’ve noticed that you haven’t appeared in those social columns lately.” Adrien nearly spit out his wine at his father’s matter-of-fact observation. He looked up from his meal as Gabriel brought a piece of his chicken to his mouth.

“Father, you make it sound as if I was always in them,” he said, forcing a weak smile. 

“But you were. Not a week went by that we didn’t hear of our son at some club or bar or festival,” his mother said across from him. Adrien threw her a betrayed look. “The last few weeks, there has been a suspicious absence of your name.” 

“It’s about time,” Gabriel said in a low voice. 

“I’ve just been busy. There are all the shoots for the fall and winter collections and I’ve been going to the atelier often to get measured,” Adrien said. It was the truth, though honestly, that didn’t stop his partying lifestyle before.

“That didn’t stop you before,” Gabriel said. Adrien suppressed his groan. 

“I think it’s about time you stopped. Such a thing can wreak havoc on your skin; all the alcohol and staying up late,” Emilie said. “You know, Luka rarely does such things now.”

“Maman, how do you know what Luka doesn’t do?”

“I read the newsletter his fanclub sends out. I joined it to support him,” Emilie said, proud. Adrien squinted. 

“He has a...wait, never mind.” Adrien shook his head. “About the nightlife thing; it’s harder to bounce back in the mornings now, so I’ve cut back.”

“It is true that the older you get, the more difficult it is for your body to recover,” Gabriel said with a nod at him. “I’m pleased you’re taking your health into consideration, son. I trust you’re eating well?”

“I am,” Adrien said. “My team’s been careful with what I eat. I’ve only been snacking here and there every so often.” He continued to eat his dinner. “Marinette always has some pastries from her parents’ bakery at her apartment, so they’re hard to resist.” 

He didn’t notice the curious glances from his parents. 

“Marinette, the designer?” Gabriel asked. He sounded as if he were trying to sound casual. 

“Yes, she started with the company recently, hasn’t she?” Adrien asked. He was blissfully unaware of the interest on his parents’ faces. “How has she been so far?” 

“A diligent worker and her skills were accurately reflected in her portfolio.”

“A colleague of mine from Celine heard she was working for us now,” Emilie said, taking a sip of her wine. “She wishes that she knew Marinette was back in Paris. If she did, she would’ve tried to lure her back.” 

Adrien looked impressed. He was fully aware of her abilities, but didn’t know she was that sought after. “I knew she was talented, but that’s impressive.” 

“How did you meet her again?” Gabriel asked.

“She’s a friend of Luka and Kagami’s.” 

“Do you see her often?” Emilie asked, as if asking about the weather. 

Adrien nodded. “She lives across the street, so I always go over when she brings some bread from her parents’. It’s really good. I’ll bring some next time.” 

“Bring her over, too,” Emilie said. Adrien chuckled.

“Maman, you can see her at work. If you ask about the bread, I’m sure she’ll be happy to bring some for you to try,” Adrien said. 

Gabriel seemed to stare at him with a deadpan expression before slowly turning towards Emilie. Emilie seemed to return his look with one of intensity as she kept motioning her head to their son. Finally, Gabriel sighed, giving in. 

“There is a rumor at the atelier that you’re dating,” he said, finally. Adrien froze. “I ignored the rumors, as we assumed you two were acquainted since you brought her to our attention, but-.”

“Mon cher, are you dating her?” Emilie asked. “I’m not against it! Maman is just curious!” 

“What? No!” Adrian shook his head and pulled away from the table. “Marinette is just a friend!” 

* * *

“And now you’re telling me you feel guilty?” 

“Guilty isn’t the word I’m looking for. It just...I don’t know...we are just friends. It just felt strange to say it out loud.” Adrien stood behind his kitchen counter, making himself a sandwich as Luka sat on a chair in his living room, looking over some music lyrics as his guitar case rested behind him. 

“How is it weird?” Luka asked, without taking his eyes off the papers in front of him. 

“I don’t know,” Adrien said. “Maybe it’s because of the rumors.”

“The ones about you dating a designer at your father’s company? I figured it was Marinette.” 

Adrien stopped a few paces away on his way to the sofa. “How did you know about that?”

“People talk,” Luka said. He glanced up. “You know...gossip gets around and even I’ve heard about it.”

Adrien took a few tentative steps closer. “What have they been saying?”

“You started dating some designer so that’s why you haven’t been seen out at night recently.” Luka grinned. “Am I wrong?” 

It wasn’t that Luka was wrong, but he wasn’t completely right either. While he’s wanted to leave that partying lifestyle for a while, he didn’t know how to leave without making it seem as if he was leaving behind a part of his life he hated. He didn’t; he just wanted more peace and quiet now.

He wanted to relax after his strenuous work days, not worry about showing up at an opening or putting on a smile and drinking. He liked where he was at the last few weeks: eating fresh baguettes at Marinette’s and trying new, seasonal tarts to voice his opinion on what should be sold; giving his thoughts when asked on her designs; the convenience of picking up Marinette for nice lunch or relaxing dinner on his way out from the atelier.

“Oh....” He stared ahead of him. So _ that _ was why there was a rumor. He took a seat on the edge of the sofa closest to Luka and placed his cut sandwich on the table. He lowered his eyes. “We haven’t said anything about dating. We just hang out and go out to eat a lot. You and I do that, too.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t send you goodnight texts,” Luka said. He reached forward and grabbed half of Adrien’s sandwich.

“Hey!”

Luka took a defiant bite of it, holding Adrien’s gaze. He smirked as he ate it. “You gotta be open to how you feel and act fast.” 

Adrien snatched the remaining half of his sandwich and held it closer to him as he got up and moved towards the balcony. “You owe me half a sandwich. And she doesn’t send me goodnight texts.” 

He slipped between the glass doors and walked out into the cool night air. It felt amazing against his flushed skin and he released a deep breath before biting into his sandwich. His eyes seemed to naturally go down and look across the street, at the apartment that was lit up and had its windows open. 

Marinette was sitting on her sofa, in comfortable sleepwear, still working on a tablet. He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned over the railing and watched her. 

Marinette didn’t send him goodnight texts. _ He _ sent _ her _ goodnight texts. Luka once caught him texting and he blurted that he was just going to tell Marinette goodnight. 

Adrien caught himself and dropped his head into his hand. It was true that they were friends, but he really did like her. He liked her a lot. He liked her drive, her energy, even how klutzy she was. He liked how he felt when he was around her. The question was: did she feel the same? 

Marinette lifted her hand to her mouth and yawned. She rubbed her eyes and put her tablet down on the sofa before stretching her arms over her head. As she rubbed one shoulder, she looked up and seemed to catch sight of him. 

Adrien jerked back, tearing his eyes away and contemplating ducking behind the railing, even though it didn’t exactly provide a decent hiding place and he’d be seen so easily between the bars. Still, he felt embarrassed at being caught watching her. Again. 

Instead of the annoyed glare the first time they locked eyes, she smiled. His heart slammed against his chest as she rose from the sofa and walked to the windows. She gave him a wave and he lifted a hand to return it. She pointed at him and then at her wrist, then made a little sleeping charade with her hands clasped by her head.

He chuckled. He understood: it was late; go to sleep. He nodded and pointed back at her. She should, too. 

She smiled again and waved before heading further into her apartment. A few moments later, it went dark and Adrien let out a breath. Why hadn’t he said anything to her yet? Was he content just being friends? If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t. Perhaps he was just being cautious.

But caution didn’t make the aching he felt for her when she wasn’t there go away. 

“Remember what Rose said several months ago? About being more open?” a voice of reason asked behind him. Adrien turned around and stuffed the remaining sandwich in his mouth. Luka rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. Good luck.”

* * *

It was a set up. He was sure it was a set up, but he wasn’t going to fight it. 

Marinette was a designer. She wasn’t a normal seamstress who attended to models on site. Which was why it was suspicious when she told him she was going with him to Nice for a photoshoot to help with the alterations for the models and asked if he was taking the train so she could have a train buddy. 

“Poor Pauline...to have a family emergency like this,” Marinette said. “I hope everything is okay. I told her not to worry about the shoot. I spend most of my time designing now, but don’t worry; I’ve done this before.” 

She said it to reassure him of her professionalism, but all Adrien could think of was that the situation was far from professional. Pauline, the usual seamstress that accompanied him, was a friend of his mother’s, as well. And he hadn’t heard anything about a family emergency. In addition, he wasn’t supposed to be shooting that line.

His father had scheduled him for it. 

Now, he was sitting on the train with Marinette playing a mobile game beside him in comfortable silence. She groaned and lowered her phone. 

“He got you again?” 

“I need to stop playing with Papa. When does he have time to get so good at this?” Marinette said. 

“Are you sure it’s not your mom? She’s at the top of the league, isn’t she?” 

Her eyes widened. “Do you think she’s Papa’s ringer?” There was a small beep from her phone and another round began. Adrien smiled and looked back at the book he was reading on his own phone. 

Even if Marinette didn’t exactly feel the same way, this was good enough, wasn’t it? Just hanging out with her was enough. He looked back at her as she adjusted in her seat. Still looking at her phone, she leaned towards him and put her head on his shoulder. 

He didn’t dare breathe. Marinette didn’t seem to think anything of it and continued playing, frowning when she lost. Adrien remained stiff, as if the slightest movement would make her rip herself off him. 

“Ugh...that’s it. I’m done.” Marinette lowered her phone on her lap, defeated, and tilted her head back.. She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure Mama is playing for Papa.” 

“Oh...that would explain why he’s been beating you.” He was still tense and Marinette narrowed her eyes. She sat up straight and gave him a critical look. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He put on his model smile, hoping to distract her for his clear discomfort. 

“Adrien.”

“Yes?”

“Exhale.” Her single command seemed to allow him to breathe and he slumped forward, feeling like an idiot. He felt her hand on his shoulder. “Are you tired? You don’t have to stay awake to keep me company,” she said. Marinette lifted her phone. “I can distract myself. Just get some sleep if you need to.”

He shook his head, appearing like a pouting child. “I’m fine. I don’t need to sleep.” 

“Lack of sleep is bad for your skin,” Marinette said in a sing-song voice. She leaned back against him. “Let me know if you want to sleep.” 

He nodded and tried to look anywhere but at Marinette as she closed her eyes. He bit his lips as she seemed to snuggle against him to get comfortable. When he was sure she was sleeping, he relaxed. A small smile graced his lips as he reached over to take her phone from her hand so it wouldn’t fall to the floor. He tucked it into her carry all at her feet and began to move his hand over hers. It just graced the back of her hand when someone spoke up beside him.

“Excuse me, but are you Adrien Agreste?” He sapped his head up, bringing his hand back to his lap. 

Two teenagers were standing in the aisle next to his seat, gripping a magazine each. A familiar sight and he immediately put on the model smile again. 

“Yes, I am.” The girls lit up and looked at each other. They let out a squeal and Adrien lifted his finger to his lips. “Shh....” he said. He tilted his head towards Marinette sleeping beside him. 

“Oh! Sorry!” The girls lowered their voices and gave him an apologetic expression. “We don’t mean to bother you and your girlfriend.”

“Ah...” Adrien said. “She’s just a friend.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. What was he saying? He didn’t need to confirm or deny that. These two were young fans, not the paparazzi. And it wasn’t as if Marinette could hear them. He continued to smile and glanced down at their magazines. “Did you recognize me from an advertisement?” 

He opened that would distract them. The girls nodded energetically. It worked. As predicted, they held out the magazines and a pen. He thanked them for his support as he took the first magazine and nearly dropped it as he saw his half naked body draped across a full page ad for his father’s company’s cologne. 

“Thank you!” the girls said as quietly as their excitement allowed. They huddled next to each other and scurried away, clutching their freshly signed magazines to their chests. “I can’t believe he’s on the same train as us!”

“I _ told _ you that was him on the platform.”

“Do you really think that’s his girlfriend?”

“Oh, she has to be,” he heard one of the girls say in such an assured voice as the door to the train car opened. “It’s so obvious.”

Adrien looked back at Marinette and brought his brows together. “Obvious, huh?” he said. His hand moved over hers and he brought it up to his lips to kiss her fingertips before lowering them back down on her lap. He sighed, still holding her hand, and rested his head atop hers. “Guess I’m not open enough yet.”

* * *

Despite her best attempts to act normal after the train ride, she was sure that Adrien picked up on her abnormal behavior. Her avoidance was clear, especially when she jumped at the chance to help another model instead of Adrien. 

“I had worked on her line,” she told him when she volunteered and earned herself a confused look from him. “I can probably do a better job with what I’m familiar with. Lexa is familiar with your garments.” She was grasping at an excuse, but due to the rush to get things done, Adrien had complied in silence.

Before they arrived, she had no qualms with sitting beside him and even using him as a makeshift pillow. She liked him and enjoyed his company. They spent a lot of time with each other and spent even more on random messages when they were apart, but they weren’t anything more than close friends, as the rumors in the company persisted. 

At least, they’d said nothing more about whatever relationship they had. To hear him call her just a friend while while drifting in and out of sleep in the train sent an unexpected shock to her. That’s all she was? 

He held her hand and kissed it and fell asleep next to her and that’s all he saw her as? She was upset with herself for having grown so comfortable with him that she had fallen back on the belief that while their relationship wasn’t necessarily romantic, it was getting there. They never talked about it; she just saw things that weren’t there. 

It made it difficult to face him and when the chance arose, she avoided him. If he was at one location, she’d be at another. If they were having a meeting as a group, she’d sit with the other seamstresses. If they were on location in the same place, she made herself as busy as possible to avoid a moment with him. 

Marinette knew this couldn’t last forever. 

With the photoshoots drawing to a close, she still had her train ticket back to Paris with a reserved seat next to Adrien. It would be several hours with him and she doubted she could get away with just sleeping. 

She let out a heavy breath asn she arranged some of her things in a straw tote. What a trip this was. She left Paris thinking she’d get to spend time with Adrien and play on the beach; neither of which happened. 

She lifted her tote and looped it over her shoulder. It didn’t work out with Adrien, but a nice walk on the beach would at least relax her before the long journey home the next day. Marinette put on a pair sandals she brought just for the beach and headed out of her hotel room. 

“Marinette?” 

“Adrien!” Her cheeks flushed as she caught sight of him. She took a small step back just as her hotel room door closed behind her. “What are you doing here? I thought you went out with the others?”

A pained look crossed his face for a split second before he seemed to force a smile on his face. “I...was tired. I didn’t feel like going.” He glanced down at her bag and cocked his head. “Are you heading somewhere?”

“Oh, um....” She glanced down the hall, towards the elevators. “I was going to take a walk. You know...just unwind after a long few days.” 

“Can I join you?” 

She drew her head back and knit her brows together. “I thought you were tired.”

He gave her a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve had a long last few days, too. I can use some fresh air.” 

If she said no, would he bring up how she’d been avoiding him? She forced a smile on her face. “Sure, if you’re up to it.” She stepped around him and motioned to the elevator. “If you get too tired, you don’t have to walk with me the whole way.”

A relieved smile filled Adrien’s face and he quickened his walk to catch up with her. He didn’t seem as tired as he claimed. “Are you planning to walk across the city?”

“Something like that,” she said. “I thought I’d take a better look around before we leave.” It wasn’t a lie. She was there to work. She_ knew _she was there to work and accepted that when she received the shoot schedule and found herself busy during the day. Still, how could she go to the Cote d’Azur and not at least walk out into the beach?

The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor. The lobby seemed busy with guests heading out for dinner and Marinette had to weave between them to get to the exit. A particularly large crowd was congregated by the doors and before she could figure out how to get around them, she felt a warm hand wrap around hers.

“This way,” Adrien said, he gave her a little wink as he nudged his head over his shoulder. 

“But...”

He smiled and Marinette lowered her head and nodded, allowing him to lead her away from the front exit to another door to the side. “It’s a bit out of the way,” he said as he moved closer. He moved her in front of him and placed an arm around her shoulder to steer her around a loud group of tourists. 

The feel of his arm around her made her skin warm and she hoped he didn’t see her flushed face. They turned a corner into a narrow corridor and she could make out a door at the other end. It was probably a door for workers and not guests, but it would avoid the crowds in the lobby. 

Adrien let her go and stuck out his arm. He pressed against the door, pushing it open. 

“Finally!” He pushed open the door and she was met with the warm night breeze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “So, where are we off to first?”

She looked up towards him and gave him a weak smile. “I thought I’d go for a walk by the beach?”

“Sounds great!” Adrien lifted his arm to offer it to her, but Marinette started walking ahead. 

“If we get hungry, we can stop by one of the shops by the waterfront for something,” she said, trying to avoid looking at him. “Maybe we’ll run into the others.”

He sped up once more to catch up with her. The relaxing walk she was planning on taking was anything but. They made it to the waterfront and began to walk on the street just beside the beach. Marinette clung to her tote as she eyed the inviting sea, wishing she could step right into the sand. 

She could feel Adrien’s eyes on her as they walked in silence. Marinette was torn between trying to come up with something to talk about and figuring out an excuse to lose him so she could go play in the water before the sun completely set. 

Before she could think of something, Adrien swept past her. He turned, heading down a set of stairs that led to the beach.

“Adrien?” She stopped and called out. 

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “You kept looking out at the water,” he said. “Let’s get closer.” 

Her heart quickened. He noticed. She chewed on her lower lip and nodded. She adjusted her tote beside her and followed him down the steps. As she reached the sand, she bent down to remove her sandals and Adrien swept them up before she could. Her eyes widened as he took her hand with his free one and began leading her to the water. 

“Adrien, I can put my sandals in my bag.” 

“I don’t want it to get dirty,” he said, his back to her. The golden light of the sunset hit him and she saw the somewhat serious look on his face. “I’m glad I caught you. We’ve been busy these few days.” 

She gave him a light laugh. “It’s always hectic, but at least we’re done now. I can’t wait to go home tomorrow.”

“About that.” Adrien looked over his shoulder at her as he stopped and she caught up with him. “Are you going to avoid me on the train, too?” 

She knew he noticed, but when he said it, she grimaced. She lowered her head and shook it. “I’m sorry....”

“You’ve been acting differently since we got here,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m not sure what I did.” He straightened up and a look of worry filled his face. “Was it because I held your hand when you were sleeping?” He immediately dropped hers and took a step back. “If that was too much-”

Marinette shook her head once more. Despite their initial meeting, Adrien had been very kind to her. In fact, even after he laughed, he had been in a rush to apologize. He was supportive and encouraging and sweet. As uncomfortable as she was, it wasn’t fair for her to avoid him.

“It wasn’t that.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I’m just not sure where we are.”

“Where?” He looked confused and her face heated even more. She took a step back and put her tote on the ground.

“You know, the sun is setting,” she said as she rested her tote on the sand. “I’m just going to go wade out in the water a bit...you know. Just to say I did.” She gave him a bright, but forced smile before marching out into the waves.  
“Marinette!” 

She ignored him and placed her feet in the warm, Mediterranean waters. She wiggled her toes beneath the water as she watched it retreat from the shore. She waded further in, just enough to let the rushing water reach her knees as she lifted up the hem of her dress a little to avoid the splash. 

The roar of the water filled her ears and she didn’t hear the splashing behind her before she felt his warm arms wrap around her and his head press against her shoulder. She sucked in a sharp breath as Adrien pulled her against him. Her body was tense.

A nervous voice left her. “Adrien?”

“It feels like you’ll disappear at any moment if I don't tell you now....” She strained to hear his voice. 

“Tell me what?” His embrace tightened and she could feel him tremble. 

“I love you.” 

A wave slammed against them and Marinette found herself sputtering as water hit her stomach, soaking her dress. She pulled away from Adrien’s arms to get to higher ground on instinct. She wasn’t sure what stunned her more: the water or him. 

“What....” She shook her head, looking down at her dress, unsure if she was even in the right reality.

“I love you!” She raised her head, towards Adrien, as he remained in knee deep water, shirtless and his pants soaked. He was looking at her with desperate green eyes as he lowered his arms. “I have for a while now,” he said, breathless. “Marinette...I want to be more than just your friend.”

Her mouth was open as she stared at him. 

“Adrien....” She was at a loss for words and her lack of them seemed to alarm him.

“I just wanted you to know! I don’t want to pressure you or anything-” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down against her. He froze in her arms. “Marinette?”

“I love you, too, Adrien,” she said as she buried her face against his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure you wanted anything more and I was comfortable with how close we were without saying any more.”

“But this is better, right?” he asked, his voice still tight. His arms hovered above her, as if afraid to hold on to her. 

She giggled and nodded. She lifted her head and smiled. “It’s a lot better.” She leaned upwards and grazed his lips with hers. That seemed to ease his hesitation and he relaxed, his arms wrapping back around her. 

“I’m glad...,” he whispered. 

“So am I.” Marinette slid her hands to his chest and put some distance between them. She smiled and giggled. “We should get back to the hotel. You’re drenched.”

He laughed. “So are you.”

“Not as much as you are.” 

“Ohh....” A teasing smile filled his face. His arms slid and swept her off her feet. Marinette let out a yelp as she was lifted up and fell over his arms. “Let’s even it out!”

She screamed and laughed as he carried her further into the water. “Adrien!” She squealed as a wave washed over them. “It’s going to get dark soon!”

“Don’t worry!” he said, swinging her around. He gave her a wink. “I won’t let anything happen to my girlfriend!” 

* * *

**Epilogue**

“Did you ever think, that when you ran out into the street in that ugly denim jacket smelling of alcohol and vomit, that you’d be here, right now?” Luka asked as he knelt down on Adrien’s balcony, tying the corner of a sign down. 

On the other side of the balcony, Adrien paused in the middle of tying another corner to the railing and sent Luka a deadpan expression.

“Are you going to bring that up whenever you can?”

“It was hilarious. Marinette tells the story all the time.”

Adrien let out a low breath and finished tying the sign. “God, I hope she says yes....” 

Luka stepped back from the sign. A large, outdoor banner was Adrien’s latest attempt to propose to Marinette. He hoped it worked; it was difficult conspling Adrien after his last three attempts failed miserably for one reason or another. 

Attempt number one: a classic romantic dinner. Adrien had the engagement ring ready in his pocket. They were just seated and ordered their wine. Luka had been seated not far away with his phone, ready to record it like the amazing friend he was. 

The restaurant’s kitchen caught on fire and they had to evacuate. In the end, Marinette was too shaken and Adrien brought her back to her apartment. They got take out instead. Luka had to convince Adrien to try again; that it was a fluke. 

Attempt number two: a romantic walk outside in the Trocadero, her favorite park. It rained. Perhaps planning an outdoor proposal in the fall was not the best idea. Personally, Luka thought it was cool and dramatic, but as the two lovers were caught in the middle of a rain, without an umbrella, they were running for the nearest metro station. 

However, what were the chances that such a thing would happen again to stop them. 

“No, the universe is not telling you no,” Luka had insisted. Adrien caught a cold the next day and Marinette was also stuck in her apartment with her own cold. Luka ran back and forth between the two buildings to bring them food and medicine. “Just try again.”

Attempt number three: dinner at his apartment. It didn’t matter if it rained outside. It didn’t matter if there was a surprise blizzard. Adrien ordered food, terrified that with his luck, the kitchen would catch on fire. 

This time, Adrien set up a camera to capture the engagement. 

Dinner was cancelled. An accident in the metro held up Marinette’s commute and she called and apologized, saying she couldn’t make it. The metro was too hectic so she was going to stay at Alya’s for the night.

“I’m telling you, Luka, the universe is telling me no.”

“You’re overthinking this,” Luka said. “Fourth time’s a charm.” 

“No one says that.”

“Do you want to marry her or not?”

Adrien’s voice was shy and meek. “I do....” 

This was his fourth attempt and, if Luka were being honest, he thought it was the most fitting. The banner read “will you marry me?” and was in the perfect position to see from Marinette’s apartment. 

According to their person on the inside, Kagami, she and Marinette were returning from dinner and were going to play a video game to relax. The plan was for Adrien to call Marinette when they were in the hall, as signaled by Kagami. When that happened, he’d tell Marinette to go look out her window. 

When she saw the banner, Adrien would appear and open the ring box. The ring box had the ring secured to it. What if it fell from Adrien’s hand? It was attached to the gloves Adrien was wearing with some hook and loop strips. If that failed, Luka would be stationed on the ground below to retrieve it. 

He watched Adrien shakily put the glove one as he let out a low breath. “You’ll be fine. This’ll work,” he said.

Adrien gave him an unconvinced nod. 

The sound of a text came from Luka’s pocket and he looked at his phone. He began to step back. “That’s Kagami, they’re entering the building.”

“Text Marinette from my phone,” Adrien said. Luka snatched the phone from the coffee table inside and pressed send on the pre-prepared message. 

“Good luck, man!” Luka said as he ran to the apartment door. “You can do this!” Adrien gave him another shaky nod and waited. 

Luka took the elevator down and ran past the foyer on to the door and around the corner. He looked up towards Marinette’s building. He could see her windows and turned towards Adrien’s apartment. The banner was flapping against the railing and he hoped the wind wouldn’t get any stronger. 

The lights in Marinette’s apartment flickered and Luka situated himself below Adrien’s apartment, phone in hand. 

He heard a snap above him. He looked up. 

“No!” Adrien’s horrified voice rang out as the corner of the banner came undone and it was flopping over. “Why is this happening!?” 

Luka ran a hand down his face as he groaned. “Oh, God....” 

His phone sounded again. Kagami wanted to know what the hell was going on: Marinette was confused. 

“We’re not doing this again....” Luka said. He tilted his head up. “Adrien!”

Adrien looked down with windswept hair and his gloved hand and ring box clutched against him. “The banner, Luka!”

“Forget the banner! Text her to open her window!”

“Why?”

“So you can ask her!” 

“But the banner-”

“The banner doesn’t matter!” Luka shouted. “You do! You have to be open to chances, remember!” 

Adrien looked at a loss. Luka sighed and texted Kagami back. A few seconds later, he heard Marinette.

“Adrien, what are you doing!” she cried out. “It’s cold and windy-”

“The banner fell!”

“What’s on the banner?” 

“Will you marry me!” 

From his view on the ground floor, he saw Adrien lean over the railing and hold out the ring box. 

It didn’t take long for the door to Marinette’s building to swing open. She ran out and Luka opened the foyer door with his spare key. 

“His door’s unlocked,” Luka said, smiling as she passed. 

“_ Merci _, Luka!” Marinette said, tears in her eyes and flushed as she ran into the building. 

“Where did she go?” Adrien sounded terrified and Luka sighed. He looked up towards Marinette’s apartment and watched Kagami wordlessly shrug and close the windows. “Kagami!”

He watched Adrien turn around, then rush back into his apartment. Luka silently counted until ten, when Adrien screamed into the void that Marinette said yes. Luka tilted his head back and let out a low breath of relief. 

“Finally.” He took out his phone and brought up another text message chain. His next job was to report to the woman who had secured her son the expensive dinner reservation in attempt number one, paid for musicians for the walk in attempt number two, and provided the best wine they owned for attempt number three. 

Several arrondissements away, a blonde woman’s phone vibrated and she looked up from her tablet. She brought her phone up and sat up straight in bed. 

“Gabriel.” Her hand shot out and grabbed her husband. He didn’t move and she gave him a firm shake. “Gabriel!” He snorted from his sleep and lifted his silk eye mask. 

“What, what is it?” the man said, disoriented as he was pushing himself up. 

“She said yes,” Emilie whispered. 

“What?” She shoved the phone in his face. Gabriel’s eyes widened. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand and slid his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll get the champagne.”

Emilie looked back at the phone. Luka had sent a photo and she smiled at the picture of her son and his fiancee, smiling from their balcony.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing as well as you can be during these trying times. As an introvert, I still miss the *option* of going outside to do whatever, with whoever, as the case may be. The best I can offer are some fics to try to provide some distraction. Please take care!


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